Secrets
by AllisonxKleery
Summary: For Miley, things only go from worse to horrific. She has a terrifying secret. It's not that she's Hannah. Eventual Slash. Some Liley.
1. Unfortunately I Wont Forget to Remeber U

My disclaimer is I only own the words. No characters besides her stepbrother and mom. Everything else is...owned by some big rich honcho. This will end up in homosexual (Lilly/Miley...Liley) relationship. It's Rated T for safety. If you like, then R&R! I'd love to hear from you

xoAllison

Chapter 1

Unfortunately, I will never forget to remember you

I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

Why is this happening to me?

Why can't it happen to some other girl?

I lock the door, took a seat on the toilet.

My fingers wrap around one of the thirty pregnancy tests I took.

My heart beats, harder, harder, harder.

I squeeze one eye shut, hardly keeping the other one open.

Hold it up to my face...

Smiley face.

Is that supposed to mean positive?

Grab the cardboard box, flip it over to the back.

Smiley faces are...positive.

But...pregnancy tests are only 99.9 right.

That means I only have a .1 that I'm not.

I pick up another, drink down my glass of water and let it tinkle out.

I lay it across the bathtub.

This is the last one. I have taken 29 pregnancy tests and, they've all shown Smileyfaces.

This isn't my fault.

It's _his_ fault.

It's _all his fault_.

I remember.

_We were at the party._

_Dancing with people we didn't know, but still yelling lyrics in their faces._

_Sweat dripped down my back._

_Lilly's grasp slipped away from mine, and I try and grab her._

_"Lilly!" I scream over the music._

_She can't hear me. _

_She is stuck in between these two large dudes._

_Another large dude stands between me and her._

_"Excuse me!" I shout_

_He doesn't hear me._

_"EXCUSE ME!!!"_

_He looks down at me, and I move him aside._

_I come next to Lilly and grab her hand again. _

_She gestures to come with her, so I let her pull me outside._

_She locks a gaze with me, and kisses me softly. _

_I feel like I'm flying. I want to dance._

_I kiss her back. Grabbing a fistful of her sticky blonde hair._

_After we are done, she says, "I'll see you inside."_

_I smile. "See you inside."_

_I stand outside, and scream at the top of my lungs._

_Man, I feel good._

_"Miley," a voice says in my ear._

_I turn so startled, I snap my neck._

_I grab the back of it as I see who was behind me._

_Stepbrother. Annoying stepbrother._

_"What do __**you**__ want?" I say._

_"I have something for you in the car...come."_

"Mile, are you in there bud?" my father's voice asks through the door.

My heart leaps, and I think of something to say. "Yeah! Just...using the toilet!"

Using the toilet? That's all I could think of! Using the toilet?!

"Lunch is on the table," he offers me, still speaking through the door.

"Be down in a second," I tell him.

I hear his footsteps stalk away.

I look at the newest pregnancy test.

Smiley face.


	2. What Lovely Suprise! You ARE A Whore!

I usually don't update twice in a day. But, it's Thanksgiving and dinner isn't ready till four and I'm sooo bored! All of my friends are busy, and I'm sure most of yours are too, haha. Thanks for reviews, I appreciate your comments. Happy Turkey Day!

xoAllison

Chapter 2

Oh! What A Lovely Suprise...You're A Teenage Whore!

Linda smiles at me.

Her perfect teeth glow in the light.

Her perfect blue eyes gleam.

Her perfect blonde hair shines.

How can he love her?

How can he love somebody so perfect?

I roll my eyes at her, take a seat next to my father.

"What's for lunch?" I ask.

Linda clunks a plate of PB&J in front of me.

I roll my eyes, again.

Is that all this woman can make? A stupid PB&J sandwich.

I think I'll pass. I feel like I'm going to throw up anyway.

"Yes! Another day of peanut butter jelly time," _he_ exclaims.

I can feel his eyes burning through me but, I don't dare look at him.

"Think I'll pass," I say, scooting out of my chair.

I think I'll go to Lilly's. I miss her.

I'm dying to kiss her.

I'm _not_ dying to tell her I'm pregnant.

Maybe I won't.

"Why, what's wrong bud?"

Everything, Daddy. Everything is wrong.

I wanted to say it. But, I couldn't.

"Not hungry," I lie. "Think I'll go over to Lilly's."

My eyes glance at _him_.

He smiles and winks at me.

I look away, my heart thumping, chest burning.

I hate that son of a bitch.

Quickly, I power walk out of the door.

The trees wave slowly in the November breeze.

I count the days till Thanksgiving.

The days when Linda and Ben are away from me.

I sigh happily. Only ten more days, I think. Ten more days.

Lilly's house looms ahead.

I want to run to it.

And kiss her, and tell her everything.

I want her to tell me everything is going to be okay.

I want her to help.

My knuckles beat against her door.

It opens.

"Oh, hi Miley! Come on in," Mrs. Truscott greets.

She makes space for me and I walk in.

Their house is nice.

"Lilly's up in her room."

I thank her, and waltz up the creaky stairs.

My trembling hand turns the cold doorknob.

"Lils?" I say.

I see her. She's changing the wheels on her skateboard.

"Oh, hey Mile. What's up?" she looks at me with a red, puffy face.

I guess changing the wheels on your skateboard is a workout.

"Nothing. I just wanted to hang out, " I tell her.

I flop back on her bedspread, and think.

What was I going to do if I was really pregnant?

How was I supposed to explain this...I mean, it's not _my_ fault.

It's _his_ fault.

_Everything is his fault._

I want to cry, almost.

I really want to cry.

Lilly gets up and lays next to me.

She laces her fingers with mine and she rests her head on my shoulder.

"You okay?" she asks.

I can't look at her.

I can't look at her and lie. With those sweet, brown eyes.

I can't even move without a tear falling down my cheek.

She shakes me. "Are you okay, Miley."

No, Lilly.

Lilly, I am _not_ okay.

"Miles, is everything OKAY?"

I swallow.

I can't speak.

I try.

But, I cant.

She props herself up on her elbow and looks at my face.

"If you came here to be depressed, then get out," she demands.

I am in shock.

"Miley. I am your girlfriend, and best friend. You can tell me anything, you know that," she assures.

I can't, Lilly.

Why can't you understand?

I can't.

Stop nagging me because I can't.

"Will this help?" she bends down and kisses my lips.

She twirls her tongue around, and runs her hand down my inner thigh.

A tear slips from my eye.

Another.

Another.

Another.

One more, before she leans up off of me and tilts her head.

"Miley?" she says. "Please tell me."

"I'm sorry Lilly," I apologize.

She is going to hate me if I tell her.

But I simply cannot hold it back.

"For what, you haven't done anything?" she ponders.

Her hand is still on my inner thigh.

"You won't understand," I tell her.

She sighs. "I will. Just tell me what's wrong."

"You won't," I insist.

Tears flow steady like a river.

I can't move.

I can hardly believe I'm talking.

I can hardly believe I am going to tell her.

"I will. I promise," she pleads.

She gives me that Look, and I can't resist.

"Lilly...I think I'm pregnant."


	3. Thanks So Much For Stealing My Ugliness

Chapter 3

Thanks So Much For Stealing My Ugliness

She stares at me blankly for a few moments.

Her eyes flare, like green fire.

I regret telling her.

I knew she was going to take it in a bad way.

She is going to dump me, and add to the stress I'm already feeling.

And she won't give a damn either.

Naw, she won't.

"Whore," slips out of her mouth.

Here it comes.

She is going to cuss me out.

I am going to leave, and cry.

"I knew you wouldn't understand." I roll off the bed, and exit her room.

I want her to chase after me.

I want her to kiss me like she did.

I need her to tell me everything is alright.

I need her to hold me in her arms.

I need to feel her body beneath mine.

I get to the front door, wait a second...

Nothing.

Open the door, sunlight blinding me.

My foot takes the first step onto the cement.

Then the other, then the other.

Now I am walking.

I am also crying.

It's all _his_ fault.

It really is.

She's gone.

Everything I ever dreamed of is gone.

All of my hope is gone.

My heart is broken.

I run.

I run so fast.

I still feel the tang of her lips against mine.

I reach home, and don't stop to say hi to my father.

I run right past Jackson, who I almost knock over and into my room.

Lock the door, and slide down to the floor.

After all, it is where I belong.

-----

"Miley!"

I cringe.

"Your father and I are going out. We'll be back around one...ish. Jackson is at his friends' or something."

This is nice.

"Then who's going to watch me?" I ask.

She shrugs her bony shoulders.

"Ben will be here."

My heart leaps into my throat.

My fingers quiver.

They _can't_ leave me here with _him_.

Oh god, no.

Please, god no.

They don't know.

They don't know anything.

They never will.

I hear them leave and I am alone.

Alone.

In the house.

With _him_.

I lock my bedroom door.

I grab a towel from my closet.

I go into my bathroom, and watch the water fill the tub.

I am just about to slide off my shirt, when I remember to lock my bathroom door.

So _he_ can't get in.

I slide into the tub.

I love it.

It's so much more comfortable than my bed.

It's silent.

My room is silent.

The house is silent.

Maybe _he_ left.

Maybe I'm all alone.

**Boom.**

It startles me.

It was awfully close.

I turn off the water and leap out of the bathtub.

I slide on my underwear.

**Footsteps.**

Oh, god.

My bra.

**They stop.**

My shorts.

**Knob twists.**

My shirt.

I am dressed.

But that won't stop him from taking them off.

**Boom.**

**Boom. Boom. Boom.**

Door opens.

I can't move.

He stands there, hands balled into fists.

"Didn't anyone tell you how cute you look when you're scared?" he laughs.

I start to get to my feet when he kicks me down,

"Sit the fuck down, Miley. You look so sexy when you're on the floor."

He bends down and grabs my hands, sits on me.

I dig my nails into his flesh.

He tsk-tsks, then slaps me.

Again.

And Again.

And again.

Until I am crying.

He grabs my face and forces me to look at him, wipes my tears with a thumb.

"Don't cry. I love you."

He leans forward and smashes his lips against mine.

A couple seconds later he has forced his slimey tongue halfway down my throat.

I want to throw up.

I just squeeze my eyes shut, knowing it will be over soon.

I can't fight him anyway.

The only person that gets hurt is me.

By now, he has ripped my shirt off.

Why can't I be the ugliest person in the world?


	4. Man, You Do Have A Twisted Soul!

Alot of you have mentioned how sad the story is. Well, that's basically the point. Like, if you feel depressed or you feel Miley's pain when you read this then, that means I guess I'm doing a good job. I want you to feel what Miley's feeling. I want you, when you read this and only then, to feel angry, sad, depressed, worried...every bad feeling in the world. Only when you read this story though, I don't want you guys to go around feeling horrible all of the time! Thanks for all of the reviews! And must I remind you that if you read the chapter and want to read more than REVIEW! Reviews are awesome they let me know that people are liking it. Which is pretty darn stellar don't you think so? Let me know.

xoAllison

Chapter Four

Man, You Do Have A Twisted Soul!

School building is plain.

So are the kids' that go there.

They believe anything they hear.

I am walking in the plain hallway.

Everybody stares at me with their cold eyes and plain faces.

I hear somebody cough, "Slut".

I sigh.

Guess Lilly told everybody what a whore I am.

I arrive at my locker, twiddle the lock.

It doesn't open.

I twiddle it some more, _pop_.

It opens.

First period is a drag.

Nobody cares about Algebra.

Second period is dumb.

Ms. Kunkel is a prison ward.

She is staring at me with those dark eyes.

Third period is the same.

Boring.

Annoying.

Dumb.

Fourth period is lunch.

I walk into the cafeteria, buy a juice and an apple.

Somebody bumps into me.

They knock my apple out of my hand.

They laugh.

My eyes are scanning the room for a table.

Can't find one.

Everybody stares with their cold eyes and plain faces.

Somebody yelled, "Whore."

It sounded an awful lot like Lilly.

Now everybody is doing it.

My eyes come across Oliver.

He stares at me sadly, then looks away.

They think they know.

They all think they know everything about me.

They all think they know why I'm pregnant.

But they don't.

And they never will.

They don't me.

They don't how I feel.

And even if they did, they still won't give a damn.

I feel scared.

I feel alone.

I am scared.

I am alone.

I fear for my life.

I should.

Somebody threw a water at me.

It splashes all over the front of my shirt.

A hunk of mashed potatoes plops over top of the water.

Everybody else is throwing things at me too.

I run.

I drop my juice.

I run.

I am running so fast.

I end up in the bathroom.

Soaked, and dirty.

I slam into the first stall and cry.

I remember.

_I walk towards his car._

_He opens the door, pushes me in._

_"Hey," I cry in suprise._

_He locks the door, walks to the other side._

_Gets in._

_Looks at me, then says something that disgusts me._

_"You're so pretty."_

_My eyes bulge out of my head._

_I want to gag._

_"Step-brothersaywhat?" _

_He grabs my shoulders and mashes our lips together._

_I push him by the chest, hard._

_I threw up._

_He grabs my face and does it again._

_I am trying to yank my face away from his._

_He won't let me._

_Six buttons._

_His hands tear them open._

_Zipper. _

_He forces his hands inside my underwear._

_I shoves me back, climbs on top of me._

_I pinch his neck._

_Hard._

_He hits my head against the door._

_Everything is black._

-----

Sand is in my sandals.

I ignore it.

I take a seat at a table.

I watch Jackson get yelled at by Rico for "ripping him off", again.

Rico raises a finger, lip and nose in an ugly snarl.

Jackson shrugs his shoulders and says something.

"Jackson, you're fired!" Rico shouts.

Jackson rolls his eyes and wraps a towel around his shoulder.

He strolls over to me, plops into the chair next to me.

"Man, I hate Rico," he complained.

I try to act like I care.

I don't.

So I can't.

I just sit there.

He looked at me like he suddenly just realized something.

"Miles, are you pregnant?" he asks, in a hushed voice.

The back of my eyes sting.

My throat is dry.

It's as if a claw is clamped on the back of my vocal chords.

My knees tremble, stomach rolls.

Maybe it's the baby.

"I heard all about it at school. I..." his voice trails off.

He puts his arm around me, wraps me into a hug.

I don't want to cry.

"Oliver you are such a doughnut."

I hear a familiar voice.

Lilly.

She is close.

I don't bother to look up at her.

I can hardly move.

I know she sees me.

Holding on to my brother for dear life.

Crying desperately into his shoulder.

I hear her order a smoothie at Rico's.

Oliver points.

I can see them out of the corner of my eye.

Lilly looks at me, rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"It's her own fault. She's the one who went off screwing like the little tramp she is," is what she says.

Tears sprinkle onto Jackson's shirt.

She is sitting there like she doesn't care.

Like she isn't sad.

She does.

She is.

I know she does.


	5. I'm A Messed Up Person Thanks To You!

Sorry it took me long enough! I've been busier than usual these past couple of days. Weekend called for friends, Monday is school and drama rehearsals right after, Tuesday is sister's wedding, and today drama rehearsals, boyfriend, and finally sometime to update! And...I'll admit it...I had a small bit of writer's block but I seriously was busy this week! Hopefully though, I will have enough time to update if I get nice reviews before Friday. I have a jammed weekend planned so I really need to get that in! Anyways, I hope you guys like...and it's going to seem like there is some Moliver but trust me it was completely and accident. I hate Moliver...eww. Worst couple ever.

xoAllison

Chapter Five

I'm A Messed Up Person Thanks To You, Pyscho!

School hallways are always noisy.

But today, there is a deafening silence.

They all stare, eyes cut me.

Deep like a knife.

Whisper.

Giggle.

Only other sound is my feet.

"Lookin' a little big there Molly," somebody shouts.

Everybody laughs.

It's _Miley_.

What is so hard to understand about _Miley_?

The bell rings.

Everyone is shuffling into class.

Except for me.

I am still walking.

Probably get a detention.

So.

Who cares?

Detention isn't so bad.

Better than being home.

Home is hell.

It is really quiet now.

I just keep walking.

Hall monitor.

Swerve around a corner.

Into a large body.

I am startled.

My heart jumps, eyes meet _his_.

I try to turn away.

He grabs my arm, shoves me against a locker.

"Hey there, pretty lady," he says.

He is sliding his hands down my sides.

"Heard about our baby," he says.

Hands around my belly.

"Aren't you ready to be a family?" he asks.

My eyes bulge, stomach churns.

No.

No, Ben.

I am definetely _not_ ready to be a family.

We will never be a family.

Not _ever_.

He is inching his face closer, caresses my stomach.

I try and break away.

Holds my shoulder down.

"Hey! No PDA! Detention for both of you!" a sharp voice.

Ben is startled, backs off a little.

Here is my chance.

I run.

I am running so fast, zipping down the hallways.

Can't catch me now can you, Ben?

Naw.

I am slowing down.

I stop, lean against a wall.

Catch my breath.

Slide down the wall.

On the floor.

Safe.

For now, at least.

Resting my head in my hands.

Crying.

Tears are slipping from my eyes.

Down my cheeks, gliding down my neck.

Why God?

Why must you allow this?

Why-

"Miley?"

I look up.

Heart jumps, afraid it is _him_.

I see a tall boy.

Creamy skin.

Dark hair.

Freakishly large head.

Oliver.

I am happy to see him.

"Are you okay?"

What is up with everybody asking me that?

I am sitting in the hallway.

Crying.

Head in hands.

Do I _look_ like an okay person?

No.

I am _not_ okay.

I am _not okay,_ Oliver.

He slides down next to me.

"Is it true?" he whispers.

I glare at him.

He believes them.

Because he doesn't know the truth.

And he never will.

None of them ever will.

"Is what true?" I ask.

I know.

It is true.

But not because I willingly had sex, Oliver.

Because I...

"That you're...ya know...preggy?"

Preggy?

I want to laugh.

Preggy?

Wow, Ollie.

I look away from him.

I cannot force myself to admit it.

"Miley, how could you ever do that to Lilly?" he says.

My heart leaps.

Eyes sting.

Throat is dry.

It's _not_ my fault, Oliver.

I never wanted to hurt her.

I love her.

I love her, Oliver.

And it's not fair.

It's really not.

She's been stolen from me.

Along with everything else of mine.

"I didn't mean to," I spit out.

Tears are flooding my eyes, spill out onto my cheeks.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

Do you really have to make me say it?

Really, do you?

Oliver, you really are a doughnut.

"I'm sorry, Ollie. I didn't mean to, it wasn't my fault."

He touches my shoulder.

I flinch.

Inch away from him.

He cares.

I know he does.

But, he doesn't care _enough_.

If he did, he wouldn't leave me.

Like he is now.

He is leaving.

Twiddles his hall pass, shuffles away.

To leave me.

All alone.

Like I have been for the past week.

---

I sigh.

I am home.

Trudge up the walk, fiddle front door.

Open it.

Trudge inside, flip backpack to the floor.

"Miley!" her voice echoes through me.

I look up at her.

Her perfect teeth are smiling at me.

Her perfect hair is bouncing.

Perfect body is flimsing in front of me.

"I have some very exciting news," she says.

Perfect hand touches my cheek.

Back away.

She scowls.

Forces a smile anyway.

"Thanksgiving is coming up," she says.

I know it is, Linda.

Three more days.

I am packed.

I am excited.

To get away from you and your pyscho son.

"And you, Jackson, and your father are going to Nashville," she says.

Yes, Linda.

Yes, we are.

And we're leaving you and pyscho son _here_.

I am excited.

To get away from you and your pyscho son.

"Well, your father and I made a decision," she tells me.

...That you're having chicken instead of turkey?

Chicken is good.

Much better than turkey.

Good decision, Linda.

Smart move.

The only one you've made since you've been here.

"Ben and I are coming to Nashville with you."


	6. My Stepbrother Is A Pyscho!

Okay so I know that this chapter doesn't have muuuch juice in it. But I've already written the next chapter so if I get nice reviews then I promise I will have it up by tomorrow evening. I'm free between 4 and 4:25pm and it doesn't take twenty five minutes to post a chapter! Again, the reviews are much appreciated! I love them, I really do. Thanks so much for all of your nice thoughts, it's totally appreciated and welcomed. After this weekend I will go back to regular and not so exciting life and have everything posted much quicker.

Leave Your Thoughts.

xoAllison

Chapter 6

Don't It Always Seem To Go That You're StepBrother Is A Pyscho

This seat is uncomfortable.

The car is too hot.

Ben is sitting next to me.

I cannot scoot away from him.

He is sitting so close to me.

Breathing down my neck, scraping his foot against mine.

I want to scream.

Better yet, I want to die.

Daddy halts the car to a stop.

"Looks like we're finally home to Nashville!" he says.

He unbuckles, gets out, goes to the back.

Linda unbuckles, gets out, goes to the back.

Jackson unbuckles, gets out, goes to the back.

It is Ben and I.

Alone.

I don't look at him.

I am acting as if he is not there, and we did not stop the car.

I am staring out the window, acting as if there is actually something to look at.

I can feel his chilly breath coming closer.

His hand brushes my hair behind my ear, whispers.

"Fresh meat."

His seatbelt clicks, and he slobbers on my cheek.

He opens the door, and gets out.

Looks at me, leans back in.

"Come on honey. We're here."

Honey?

Come on, _honey_?

I am really sick.

I am really going to throw up.

My stomach dives.

Throat burns.

Chunks of food float up in my mouth.

I swallow it down.

I wait till he goes to the back to help with the suitcases.

And I get out, walk straight inside.

---

I am going through the front door of the house.

My family is there to see me.

They greet me with hugs and kisses.

Aunt Dolly with her pink lipstick, and hairspray scented afro.

Uncle Earl, who actually smells good, and looks like he's lost a little weight.

Aunt Pearl with her dark ringlets, and feather dusted flannel shirt.

And of course...Luanne.

Her greasy hair is tied in braids.

Her glasses are falling down her nose.

Her 2004 Calvin Klein jeans are much too big for her.

Her cowboy boots are dirty and beatup.

And the raggy straw hat that sits on top of her head is ridiculously hideous.

I don't know how people think Luanne and I look _anything_ alike.

But, suprisingly, I have never been so happy to see her in my life.

"Howdy Cousin!" she greets, unhappily.

I wrap my arms around her and revell in her farm, hay, and horse smell.

She is so familiar.

So wonderful to finally see.

I don't know why.

We've never been nice to each other.

She cautiously pats my back and says,

"What in the name of Rod Stewart are ya doin'!?"

I let go, look at her.

"It's nice to see you, Luanne. You are my favorite cousin," I say.

That's not a lie.

As of two seconds ago.

Daddy comes in.

Followed by Linda.

Jackson.

_Ben_.

Uncle Earl grabs Daddy and buries him in a hug.

Aunt Dolly greets Linda, and tells her how beautiful she is.

Aunt Pearl holds Jackson.

Luanne...Ben?

She is blushing furiously.

Ben is smirking.

His mouth moves.

Then hers.

Then his.

Then hers, again.

"Luanne, why don't you show your cousins' upstairs," Aunt Pearl says.

Luanne nods.

Ben follows her.

Jackson follows him.

I follow Jackson.

Luanne opens the guest room door.

"Two of ya'll can sleep here. And somebody can take Miley's old room next door," she says.

"I call Miley's room!" Jackson shouts.

No.

No way.

I am _not_ sleeping in the same room as _him_.

For three nights?

It is _not_ happening.

"No way, Jerkson. It's _my_ old room, so _I_ get to sleep in it," I say.

"Heck naw! I've got...private things I'd like to do," he argues.

Come on, Jackson.

Jackson, please.

You can't leave me with him.

Jackson, if you knew the truth would you leave me alone?

If I tell you Jackson, then will you protect me?

Will you Jackson?

Then will you understand?

"Come on, Jackson. Please."

"No way!"

"I'll give you Christina Aguleira's phone number," I offer.

"Agreed," he says quickly.

He takes his bags and pushes the door open to the guest room.

Ben smiles at Luanne, glances at me.

Blows me a kiss with his lips.

I am forcing back vomit.

I open the door to my old room and I want to cry.

It is the same way it was when we packed up and left.

The butterfly wallpaper.

Hilary Duff posters.

Pink bedspread.

Barbies and play horses scattered across the floor.

Luanne and Jackson used to flush my Barbie's heads down the toilet.

That was a long time ago, though.

Before Daddy met Linda.

Before they got married.

Before they moved in.

Before the party.

When everything was happy.

When I was happy.

I collapse onto my old bed and curl up into a ball.

I never realized how much it reminded me of Lilly.

Everything reminds me of her.

Her sweet touch.

Blonde hair.

Tanned skin.

Lips that tasted like coffee and peppermint.

I think I will never taste those lips again.

I will never feel her fingers running across my cheek.

I will never feel her blonde hair tickling my nose.

I will never stroke that tanned skin.

Never again.

And it's all _his_ fault.

It's all that filthy, bastard's fault.

Everything.

The reason why I will look like a whale in a few months.

The reason why all of my friends have abandoned me.

The reason why my girlfriend hates me.

The reason why I am now the school slut.

The reason why I will have to explain to my dad and Linda that I am pregnant.

And he's happy about it.

He is proud.

Because I'm the one that looks bad.

I'm the one that looks like a trashy whore.

Like I went around purposely screwing guys.

I hear my dad calling my name.

I tilt my head enough to I can see the pink princess clock that sits on the wall.

4:15.

Dinner must be ready.

I wait until I hear the boys clunking down the stairs.

Then I force myself out of bed and down the stairs.

I enter the dining room, everybody is seated.

My eyes go straight to the floor, and I do not look up.

I carefully take my seat.

Unce Earl says grace.

The food is passed around.

I take a slice of turkey. Stuffing. Mashed potatoes.

Spaghetti.

Cranberry sauce.

And three slices of pumpkin pie.

"Whoa there bud. Might wanna take it down a knotch," Daddy warns.

I nod.

I do not look up at him.

I am inhaling my dinner and am not going to look up once.

If I do, I will see his face.

His rotting, ugly, slimy face.

Everybody is talking.

Laughing.

Reminiscing.

Asking Linda and Ben questions.

Everybody is having fun.

Except for me.

I feel _his_ foot press up against mine.

I yank my feet underneath my chair.

His hand meets my thigh, caresses it.

I drop a hot piece of turkey on it.

He hisses, nurses his scolding hand.

"Is something wrong, Mile?" Daddy asks.

I shake my head no.

Don't look up.

"You miss home or something?" he pesters.

I shake my head no.

Don't look up.

"You sure?" he presses.

I shake my head yes.

Don't look up.

I catch a glance at Aunt Dolly from the corner of my eye.

She knows something is wrong.

I know she does.

I am finished my dinner.

Get up, brush past everyone, plunk dishes in the sink.

I go upstairs.

Grab a towel.

Change of clothes.

Better get the hot water before everybody finishes.

The warm water prickles against my chest.

Soaks my grimy hair.

It runs all over my body.

I feel good.

I haven't taken a shower in a week.

I know I smell.

I know I look horrible.

I know I am starting to look big.

My belly is expanding over my jeans.

I haven't measured it, or weighed myself yet.

Pretty soon I know I will hardly be able to see my feet.

The water suddenly turns cold.

They must be finished.

I shut it off.

Climb out.

Dry myself.

Change into my pajamas.

Go pee before I sleep.

I go into my room, shut the door.

Sink into the bed, cover myself with a blanket.

How could this all be happening?

Why is this all happening?

I feel horrible.

I look _fat_.

What is wrong with me?

Why can't I just say it?

Daddy comes in to say good night.

He sits on my bed.

I act like I am sleeping.

He kisses me on the forehead and turns out the light.

I am tired.

I sleep.


	7. Why Do These Teardrops Keep Falling?

Hey! Sorry it's taken me long enough. But, like I explained before, I had a really busy weekend. So, seventh chapter is up! And...it's long. I know. I felt like there wasn't enough. I like this chapter. Though something about this chapter is really bothering me. Whatever, though. Again, reviews are soo totally welcomed! I'm not going to beg for a review if you really don't want me to continue. But, if you like it, leave your thoughts!

xAllison

Chapter 7

Where Do All These Teardrops Come From? Umm...You!

"Miley, sweetheart?"

I am waken from my dreamy sleep.

Back to reality.

Back to sucky reality.

Aunt Dolly's voice echoes through the door.

I groan loudly.

In fatigue.

In frustruation.

And to let Aunt Dolly know I'm awake.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

I find this strange.

Aunt Dolly never knocks.

Well, she does.

But she always lets herself in before I say so.

I moan again.

The knob twists, door clicks.

Hello, Dolly.

I can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy towards the woman.

I love her to death.

But, even with no makeup and hairspray she still manages to look pretty.

Her blonde hair flowed down to her shoulders.

Her usually mascara caked eyelashes were light and small.

Pajama top came low enough to show her creamy clevage.

Oh, gosh.

Whoa there, Dolly.

Might want to tuck those away for a little while.

She climbs into my bed, settles very close to me.

Suprisingly, her proximity is unsettling.

Usually, when Aunt Dolly used to climb into my bed at night, I used to hold onto her.

Tell her all of my dark secrets.

Knowing she'll always accept me.

I used to snuggle on her shoulder for comfort.

Aunt Dolly was like the sister I never had.

"Do you want to talk about things? Catch me up a little bit?" she asks.

Why did it bother me now?

When I so desperately needed the consolation of touch.

"How do you feel 'bout your new step-mom? She seems like a nice lady."

I sigh.

Yeah, she _seems_ like a nice lady.

Well, she's a perfect lady.

There has got to be a catch, somewhere.

Maybe she was really a guy...

I grunt in response.

Aunt Dolly chuckles.

She knows how I feel about Linda.

She _always_ knows.

"What about that handsome step-brother of yours?"

I gag.

Without really meaning to.

But the mucus slides up into my mouth.

Swishes around like an egg yolk in a glass.

"Luanne doesn't seem to think so. She likes him," Aunt Dolly says.

It's like she can read my mind.

Though I'm sure the gagging and arrival of mucus had something to do with it.

I swallow back the slimy substance.

"Darlin', I know somethin' is botherin' ya," she says.

I know you know, Dolly.

You always do.

It's a frustruation that you really can't read minds.

Because if you could, you would help me.

But you can't.

And it's a shame.

Because that's the only way.

"Maybe we could take a walk. It's such a beautiful day here," she suggests.

I nod.

That way, I won't worry about Luanne or Daddy listening in to my confessions.

She gets up.

Tells me she loves me and she'll see me in about an hour.

I wait till she leaves.

I think about taking a shower.

Or going downstairs to eat.

But, no.

The hot water is probably all used up with everyone running themselves everywhere.

The sink.

Cows bath.

Pigs bath.

Of course Luanne has to give her horses a bath twice a day.

Showers.

And of course just running it for no apparent reason.

Jackson.

Hunger stirs in my stomach.

Painful hunger.

Horrible.

I roll of my bed.

Study myself in the mirror.

I remind myself of Maduca having a bad hair day.

My hair goes in both ways.

Sticking out like elf ears.

Clumped into a rat's nest in the back.

Eyes groggy and drowned in fatigue.

I wish Ben could see me like this.

Then he would notice how ugly I really am.

And he would hate me.

Stay away from me.

Far, far away.

---

"You ready, Miley?" she asks.

I turn to find Aunt Dolly.

Hairspray caked.

Eyeliner daubed.

Butt bursting out of jeans.

I nod.

I am ready.

My knotty hair is in a ponytail.

My drowsy eyes are drowned in mascara and eyeliner.

I look better than I have in a while.

I feel worse than I ever have.

She extends her elbow.

I take it.

---

I miss Tennessee.

I miss the green fields.

The sidewalkless streets.

So you have to walk in the dewy grass.

Let it brush over your jeans, sprinkle them with water.

The fresh, unpolluted air.

I miss the pigs.

The horses.

Chickens and cows.

I loved how seperate the houses were.

In Malibu, your neighbors can see right through your window.

Aunt Dolly smiles as we walk.

"Well Ms.Miley! Mind tellin' your ol' Aunt Dolly what's on that thoughtful little mind of yours," she says.

I was really enjoying this.

Sort-of.

I find it hard to enjoy most things these days.

Well I find it hard to enjoy _anything_ these days.

I shrug.

"Life," I reply.

She laughs.

Her squeaky, but yet throaty laugh.

That isn't exactly the truth.

I mean, my life is what is bothering me.

She just doesn't know what in my life.

"How could your life be so horrible? You have your father, and Jackson, and Linda. And your friends," she tells me.

"Is it your mama that's botherin' you? Aww, sweetie. Your mama's always close. Just look here," she puts her fist over her heart.

I smile.

Act like my mom is really what's bothering me.

I do wish she was here.

If she was none of this would be happening.

Daddy would still be crazy over her.

Not Linda.

Never Linda.

Not Ben.

Never, ever Ben.

Why did you have to die mom?

Why did you have to give up?

On me.

On Daddy.

On Jackson.

On Aunt Dolly.

On your mom.

On your dad.

On Uncle Erl and Aunt Pearl.

On everything.

You gave up because you were exhausted.

Tired of fighting.

Were you thinking of me, mommy?

When you decided to finally close those eyes.

When you breathed in your last breath.

And rested off forever.

Were you thinking of Daddy?

Of Jackson?

Were you thinking of anyone?

The lives you were affecting.

My life.

Everybody's life.

God, mom.

Oh, gosh.

I'm just being selfish.

I know my mom's pain surpassed her love for us.

She was so weak.

So white.

Fragile.

And she was in so much pain.

She couldn't deal with it anymore.

I understand.

It's the way I feel.

All the time.

We walk for a while.

Chatting about miscellaneous things.

School.

Family.

Work.

Hannah.

I told her that I wasn't quite up to being Hannah anymore.

I hadn't come out to anybody yet.

But I'd stopped recording.

Stopped photoshoots.

Cancelled interviews and declined them.

When we finally come back home, Luanne and Ben are sitting on the front stoop.

Ben's arm is around her.

Luanne's face is bright red.

His lips are in her ear.

She is giggling madly.

Aunt Dolly whispers about them.

I smile.

Act like I think it's cute.

I think it's disgusting.

Disturbing.

"Aw, look at ya'll. It's like seein' Sonny&Cher on their first date!" Aunt Dolly exclaims.

Luanne looks up at her.

Gives us the evil eye.

Ben says something else, leans back, bites his lip.

Luanne's soaking wet braids bounce as she laughed.

I roll my eyes.

Aunt Dolly says something.

Moves past them into the house.

Luanne shouts after her.

Ben looks at me.

Winks.

I act like I don't see.

Look away quickly.

"There's breakfast on the table, Miley," he says.

"Whatever," I say.

Not like you care anyway, Ben.

You want me to die.

I want me to die.

We all want me to die.

Don't act like you care.

Because you don't.

"Yeah, cuzin. Aren'tcha hungry?" Luanne says.

I ignore them.

Go into the house.

---

I can hardly look at dinner.

I tell Daddy I ate a huge lunch.

"And what exactly was that...that you ate?" he asks.

He looks at me skeptically.

His eyebrows are raised.

Thick fingers and rough palm rested ontop of his wide hips.

What, what?

Think, Miley.

Think.

"Four sandwiches," I lie.

Sandwiches?

Oh, gosh.

I couldn't do any better than _sandwiches_?!

"That's real funny," begins Uncle Erl from across the table.

"We ain't got any bread!"

He breaks out into a raspy laugh.

It turns into a heavy cough.

I laugh at his heavy body bouncing up and down.

"You're eating," Daddy says.

I sigh.

I'm starving.

My stomach roars with hunger.

But, looking at Ben's face denys that request.

Knowing all of the things he's done to me.

All of the things he's thinking about doing with me.

Makes me want to vomit.

And vomit.

And vomit.

Until I have no insides.

They are all spilled out in front of me.

"Daddy! I'm not hungry, really," I insist.

I cannot take another second of _his_ eyes staring hard at me.

Daddy looks at me.

Considering.

Wraps his arm around his belly.

Rests his elbow on his hand.

Rubs his fingers along his bristly chin.

"Alright. It's only leftovers from last night, anyways," he says.

I get up from the table.

Start for my room.

"Oh, Mile!" he calls.

Ugh.

Please don't smart mouth me Dad.

With one of those comments.

That are going to make me feel guilty.

Or make me eat.

I poke my head back into the room.

"A letter came for you in the mail," he tells me.

Aunt Pearl hands it to me.

A white envelope.

Hard.

I look at the postage stamp.

Malibu.

My heart thumps.

Sweat drips from my forehead.

Lilly?

Oliver?

I am praying that it is Lilly.

I bounce up the stairs.

Into my room.

Lock the door.

Slide down to the floor.

Tear apart the letter.

It reminds me of the way Ben ripped me apart.

Tore me apart.

I was sick for a moment.

My insides spill onto the floor.

I pull my hair away from my face.

Let the sour liquid pour from my mouth.

When I am finished, I pull my head into my hands.

My body is shaking.

I can feel myself paling.

Whitening.

I am too weak to cry.

Too weak to crawl up into my bed.

My shaky hand is pulling out the piece of paper.

Unfolding it.

Reading it.

_Dear Miley, _

_Hey. I hope everything's alright. I hope you're okay, at least. Things are good enough here. My mom's dating her boss. The dude thinks he's my father or something. He says I'd better start developing 'young lady' attributes, or it's off to Charm School for me. I really hate the guy. Know what I mean? I'm really sorry about everything. Really, I am. I never realized how much I've missed you. I know I shouldn't give you a second chance. Since you cheated and everything. But, somehow, somewhere deep down, I'm still in love with you. I'm still wanting me some Miley! I miss you. It's really hurtful. To see you like you are. So sad. I understand what you're going through. So big, now. You're belly, I mean. It's a good thing I guess. You're a present that God gave me. So happy that he did. I love you, Miley. I really love you. I miss you. Can't wait till you get back. Even if you don't want me anymore. Anyways, my mom is calling. See you around._

_x_

_Lilly_

I feel like I am sinking into the hard-wood floor.

Rereading every word. Every letter.

Right down to her signature.

Kissing the I's she dotted with hearts.

I am considering crying.

I wonder how loving her can bring me so far down.

How her love can bring me so far down.

I cry.

Leaning against the wall.

Unlock my heart.

I let all of the hurt out.

Trying.

I will never be able to let it all out.

By just crying at least.

It will always be here.

In my memories.

In my heart.

I wrap up the note.

Lock it safely away into my suitcase.

Climb into my bed.

Turn off the light.

---

I know he's here.

I can hear his footsteps.

Stop.

Heavy body clunks onto my bed.

Next to me.

Rubs his fingers through my hair.

Trying to get me to open my eyes.

I don't.

Keep them closed.

Locked shut.

Squeezed shut.

Strokes my face.

I don't budge.

Freeze my body.

Don't breathe.

Maybe if I don't wake up.

He will go away.

And he won't hurt me.

And he will leave me alone.

Give up.

His motions are rough now.

Violent.

I can't move.

I won't move.

"Wake up, bitch!" he screams.

He takes my hair, bangs my head against the wooden bedframe.

Again.

And again.

Until he is sure I am awake.

Rips off my shirt.

Clothes everything.

Explores me roughly.

Tears pour down my cheeks.

I grope onto reality.

See what is happening.

Lilly, you have no idea what I'm going through.

Really.


	8. Lord, Save Me Save Me!

Chapter 8 

Lord Save Me, Save Me!

I am awake.

Laying in my bed.

Tangled in the sheets.

The sun is peaking through the curtains.

I don't notice.

Not really, anyways.

Just staring.

At the wall.

The wall seems endless.

Like my life.

Like the seconds.

Minutes.

Days.

Endless nothing.

House is light now.

Still no sound besides Jackson's snoring through the wall.

I watch the golden rays poke across the ceiling.

Not that I noticed it much.

I can't see anything.

Not really.

It's blank.

Everything is blank.

Somebody stirs.

I hear footsteps.

Creaking of a door.

Bathroom.

Somebody else opens their bedroom door.

Footsteps creak down the stairs.

My brain waves pop inside my skull.

I want to sleep.

But there is no easy way, really.

With a monster living next door.

Thoughts and worries of being pregnant.

What I'm going to say to Lilly when I get home tomorrow.

Why am I gone?

What on earth have I done?

Who is going to want me?

Maybe Lilly doesn't even want me.

Maybe it was a prank.

Maybe she still hates me.

How can I deny the state of my being?

I'm a mess.

My life is ridiculous.

The most absurd story you've ever heard of.

And it's all real.

It's not a movie.

It's my life.

My life that's a mess.

My life that's a _disaster_.

And it's my fault.

No way to elude the blame.

I always try and leave the blame on anyone but myself.

I can't.

The night is replaying over and over.

Again and again.

In my mind.

Like a horror movie.

I lay in bed.

Memorize every word.

Breath.

Movement.

Unable to ignore it all.

The house is filling with everyday things.

The smell of pancakes.

Eggs.

Coffee.

Perfume.

Normal things.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Nothing except me.

I heard a knock on my door.

Daddy's face pops in.

He smiles.

It dissapears.

He sees my puffy, red face.

His eyes trickle with concern.

He closes the door, sits on my bed.

"Mile, you wanna talk?" he asks.

I want to talk.

I really do.

So desperately do.

But, how can I talk to him?

Or anybody?

I cannot even admit it to myself.

How can I admit it to someone else?

"I know I'm your dad and all, but I'm always here if ya need me darlin'," he tells me.

I am ready for his lecture.

His week long lecture.

Hours.

And hours.

I am prepared.

I am ready.

"Lemme know when you're ready," he says.

Big girls don't cry. Not even in front of their daddies.

But a cloudburst, a storm threatens me.

"Hope you're hungry. Should be. Ate hardly anything since we got here. Aunt Pearl's cookin' a big ol' breakfast," he says.

I'm starving.

I'm tired.

I'm hurting.

Searing and sore.

Inside and out.

He leaves, shuts the door behind him.

I sigh.

Tears fall.

Whiffing a breath of will power, I get up.

I am pulling on jeans.

A sweatshirt.

Hair unbrushed.

Gritty teeth.

My hand twists the knob.

I hear Jackson snoring still.

Waltz past them.

Down the creaky stairs.

Into the kitchen.

Aunt Dolly's pink lips kiss my cheeks.

Aunt Pearls thin ones do the same.

Daddy's bristly chin scrapes against my forehead.

Kisses my forehead with his rough lip.

Uncle Earl grunts hello.

I greet them with the friendliest smile I can manage.

Take a seat at the table.

Aunt Dolly eyes me skeptically.

She says nothing.

I can feel her eyes burning through me.

But I don't look her way.

Luanne stomps in.

Her ratty boots clunking against the kitchen floor.

Dining room.

She plops into the seat next to me.

I nearly throw up.

She smells of sweat, mud, and poop.

Jackson stumbles into his chair.

Hair frizzy and messy.

Eyes drowsy.

Hardly open.

"Where's Ben at?" Luanne asks Jackson.

Jackson mutters something.

I hope in his grave.

I hope he's dead.

I hope he died of guilt.

Or maybe he killed himself.

Please.

Please be dead, Ben.

Please.

My heart sinks as he struts in.

His hair neatly combed on one side of his head.

Gelled.

A soft aroma of cologne lingers as he walks by.

Luanne leans in, taking his scent into her.

My heart bubbles with fury.

How does he come in, looking so nice?

Acting as if he hasn't done anything wrong.

Like everything is fine.

Like nothing happened.

"Hi there, Ben," Luanne says.

She bats her eyelashes furiously, looking like somebody with a bad eye twitch.

She twirls her greasy braid.

Glasses slip down the tip of her nose.

She can't get any uglier.

But Ben, being the slimeball he is, smirks back at her.

"Hey, Luanne," he says.

He nods, winks at her.

She blushes madly.

Presses her lips together.

Cowers her head lower.

"Mile, Jackson, Ben," Daddy calls from the kitchen.

We all shout back in response.

"Ya'll packed and ready to go?" he asks.

I've been packed.

Haven't unpacked.

Though I would have liked too.

I would have liked to stay.

Watch the four of them leave.

Fly all the way across the country.

"Yeah," Ben says.

"Uh-huh," Jackson grumbles.

I grunt.

Happily.

---

I am throbbing.

The ''v'' that is.

It burns, inside and out.

Opened like a door.

Sliced like a piece of fruit on a summer's day.

20,000 feet in the air.

My eyes drained of tears.

Staring blankly at the cool blackness of the sky.

My brain is crashing.

With thoughts.

Unable to shut down.

Emotions waved through me.

Anger.

Disbelief.

Well, I kind of gotten rid of that one.

I realize it is real.

It's not just purple haze anymore.

It's me.

My life.

I can hear the captain of the speakers.

Or, the flight attendant.

Whatever.

She is announcing are landing time.

Four minutes.

Four minutes of having my poor finger twiddled by his rough one.

Four minutes of having the feeling of everlasting disgust.

Three minutes of having my foot being harrassed by his sneaker.

Three minutes of his scabby finger grope my arms.

Three minutes of this uncomfortable seat.

And his breath echoing down my back.

It wasn't my choice to sit next to him when we landed in Denver hours ago.

It was my father's choice.

So he could sit next to Linda.

I remember those awful words his spat out of his mouth.

_"Mile, you mind if we switch tickets? So I can sit next to this bunny for a while," he asks._

_Bunny?_

_He called Linda a bunny?_

_What the f-_

_"Yeah, Miley. Ben can sit next to you if that's alright," Linda says._

_No, Linda._

_No, it's not alright._

_I don't __**want**__ to sit next to your pyscho son._

_"Mile?" Daddy asks._

_He waves his hand in front of my face._

_I don't speak._

_I can't._

_My vocal chords are ruined._

_Maybe it's from screaming._

_Inside my own head._

_I do it so much._

_All the time._

_"Alright, then."_

_Daddy snatches my ticket from my hand._

_Shoves his at me, wraps his arm around Linda's shoulder._

_Strokes her hair._

_Ben looks at me, smirks._

_Looks back at Jackson who is arguing with my dad._

_Linda is laughing at them._

_He grabs me by my waist, thrusts me towards him._

_Snatches my face._

_I try and pull._

_I pull with all my strength._

_But it doesn't work._

_He keeps me in._

_Shoves his tongue in my mouth._

_Just his tongue._

_And wiggles it._

_All around and about._

_Lets me go._

_Licks his lips._

_Smiles._

_Winks._

_Proceeds ahead of me._

_With the rest of the family._

_Thanks, Dad._

_Thanks, so much._

We land.

I clutch my seat belt.

Fingers wrapped around it.

Gripping tightly.

I am back.

To Malibu.

California.

Where school is.

Where the house is.

Where it all began.

Everything.

--- 

I saw them.

Before they saw me.

Oliver.

Lilly.

Walking side-by-side.

Oliver, eyebrows wrinkled, face sulking.

Dark brown hair, clinging to the side of his face.

Creamy skin, dipped in Cali color.

Lilly, somehow even more beautiful than the last I saw her.

Hair curly and soaked with sea water.

Skin tan and clear.

Face twisted into a laugh, her pearly teeth glistening with joy.

Visible from here.

A smile.

That could lighten, even the darkest of hearts.

Her eyes glance at me.

Glance back at Oliver.

Her eyes pop.

She looks back at me.

She catches sight of something strange.

Unfamiliar, and she is hesitating.

She is unsure I am me.

Her smile dissapears.

My heart sinks.

She hates me, still.

Dangflabbit.

She waves.

Her hand back and forth like waves or wind or something.

And they both run.

Up to me.

Talking excitedly, smiling, laughing.

Grabbing a hold of my arms, and shaking them with joy.

This is weird.

Really weird.

They are both talking at once.

Asking questions.

Not waiting for me to answer them.

Instead they mention how sorry they are.

How happy they are for me.

That I'm going to be a mother.

But, why?

Why would they be happy for me?

I look like a whore.

Lugging my belly around.

A down right tramp.

I have to come out to my Dad.

That I'm pregnant.

I have to go through the pain at fifteen.

Why?

I am the complete opposite of happy.

Oliver closes his mouth.

Lilly is still talking excessively.

Hands rubbing my belly.

Smiling.

Oliver looks at her funny.

Hits her on the shoulder.

"What?" she says.

"Shut up," Oliver says.

I want to laugh.

But it doesn't come.

I want to burst out in laughter.

To belt it out.

But it doesn't build up.

Not at all.

It stays.

Calm and content inside me.

I don't peep a sound.

"Miley," Lilly says.

She looks at Oliver.

Tells him to beat it with her eyes.

He nods.

Smiles at me.

"Glad to see you home, Miles," he tells me.

He trots over to Rico's.

Slapping hands with all of the guys.

Lilly wraps me into a hug.

Her hands working her way down my back.

Down around my waist.

Gripping onto me.

I hug her.

Tight around her shoulders.

Her nose resting in my neck.

I feel her breath.

Tickles my skin.

I smell her scent.

Salt and sweat.

I grin though.

So intrigued by her familiar smell.

We sway slightly, revelling in each other's comfort.

Warmth.

Familiarity.

I want to cry almost.

I miss Lilly.

I miss her so much.

I miss everything about her.

Her smile.

Her eyes.

Laugh.

Her hugs.

Kisses.

She wraps her fingers with mine.

Leads me down to the beach.

Smiling.

She is full speed ahead of me.

We are connected only by the slippery grip of our fingers.

My feet flop as I try and keep up with her speed.

I want to talk.

To ask her where we are going.

So I do.

"Lilly. Where we going?" I ask.

It feels good to talk.

I feel like I haven't talked for days.

For years.

It's so good to use my voice.

It sounds so sweet.

So wonderful.

She looks at me.

Giggles.

Puts a finger to her lips.

"Sshh," she says.

Pulls me down.

Farther and farther.

Past the people on the beach.

Past the boardwalk.

Farther.

Keep going.

Stop.

She turns.

Towards me.

Hands cup around my face.

She kisses me.

Hands groping my sides.

I kiss her.

Tongues fooling around.

Wrap her all around me.

Circle my arms around her waist.

When she is done, she releases.

Hands slide down my neck.

Over my chest.

Down my belly.

Caresses my groin.

She looks at me.

I look back at her.

I grin.

I want her.

I want her so bad.

I want to make love to her.

To feel her body sliding over mine.

Her fingers unbutton my pants.

Slide them down.

Tips bend the line of my panties.

Peaks at my skin and pubs.

Bites her lip.

Eases them down.

Oh, god.

Take me now.

She lifts her shirt over her head.

I help her with the tie in her bikini.

My eyes lay on the beauty of her.

Her womanhood.

I feel like I'm flying.

I run my hands over her naked shoulders.

Pull her to me.

She hesitates.

Backs away.

"Wait," she says.

She lifts my shirt over my head.

Running her fingers over my belly.

My growing belly and she shivers.

She closes her eyes.

Swallows.

"Who's is it?"

I am confused.

"What?" I ask.

She sighs.

Palms placed flatly over my round stomach.

"Who is the father?"

I gulp.

Heart races.

Faster and faster.

How can I tell her?

If I tell her she will know.

How can I admit it?

How?

How?

HOW?

"Well?"


	9. Behind TheseBlue Eyes?

Hey! Sorry it's taken forever to get this up and I'm sorry it's so short. But, I have an eligible excuse this time lol. I actually sprained my foot running from my little brother who was chasing me with a bat trying to get me to help him with the dishes. I know right, wacky family haha. I haven't been able to go to the emergency room yet, my mom didn't want to sit in there on a saturday night. Ya'll know how it is! I'm going today though. Uhmm...it's short...juicy...review?

If you like...leave your amazing and thoughtful thoughts!

xoAllison

Chapter 9

Behind These...Blue Eyes?

_Buttons._

_Six buttons._

_Plus my jean button._

_Seven buttons._

_Torn._

_Jeans snap._

_I scream._

_Claps a hand to my mouth._

_Bite the skin of his hand._

_He yells._

_I try and scramble._

_He recovers quickly._

_Smashes his fist against my head._

_Again._

_Again._

_"Stop, Ben!"_

_He laughs._

_Climbs over me._

_"Shut up. We both know what kind of girl you are," he says._

_Smacks me._

I cry.

Tears wash my cheeks.

Fall back onto the sand.

Screaming.

Crying.

Lilly lays down.

Strokes my face with her thumb.

Shusing me.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me," she says.

I cry still.

She wraps her arms around me.

Stroking my bare back.

Kisses my salty lips.

Tears stop.

I am kissing her back.

My pain goes away.

Wrap my arms around her waist.

Kiss becomes fierce.

Tongues swirling.

Lips rocking all over each other.

Spit wetting our mouths and face.

She slides her shorts off.

Bathing suit bottom.

Climbs ontop of me.

Wet hair sprinkled with sand tickles my face.

Kisses me everywhere.

Mutters 'I love you'.

Passion is rising up in my heart.

Lilly's mouth moves lower.

Inch by trembling inch.

I am ready to do it.

Oh so very ready.

---

I am home.

Linda says hi.

Asks where I've been all night.

I tell her with Lilly.

At the beach.

It's not a lie.

Not a lie at all.

She asks what we did.

I tell her 'stuff'.

Not a lie.

Not a lie at all.

I slither down the hall.

My spotless room with a big balcony and a great view of the beach,

welcomes me with a big bed worthy of dreams

to rest my body, mind, and soul.

I go into the bathroom.

Rob a towel from the closet.

Change of clothes.

Turn on the shower.

Water drizzles into the tub.

Fills the room with steamy air.

I climb in.

Water sprinkles across my chest, in my hair.

Sand and sweat wash from my body, ringing around the bath.

I scrub my skin.

Soap and body wash.

Scrubbing so hard, so long.

I'll probably blister.

Studied my body.

Found hickey marks on my belly and thigh.

I shrugged.

Whatever.

They are love marks.

From Lilly.

My memories of my first time.

My best memory.

The door opens.

"Who's that?" I ask.

It's Linda.

She just wants to talk.

"I'm naked you know," I say.

She chuckles.

"Miley, I am a woman too you know. You don't have anything I haven't seen before," she says.

No Linda I didn't know that.

I didn't know you were a woman.

Quite frankly I thought you were a guy.

A very pretty guy.

I laugh.

I've got things on my body you haven't seen on it.

Love marks.

From a girl.

From my best friend, Linda.

From Lilly.

Betcha haven't done your friend before.

"Miley, are you pregnant?" she asks.

I frown.

Shit.

Oh, whoops.

I didn't mean that.

Sorry anyways.

I really _do_ look big now, don't I?

I play it off.

"I haven't ever consented to sex," I say.

It's not a lie.

Not a lie at all.

She sighs.

Sits down on the toilet.

"I can see you right now. You've gained at least six pounds and it's all gone to your stomach," she says.

Anger bubbles up inside me.

Why is it any of her business anyways?

She probably already knows what a pyscho her son is.

That's why she moved from Conneticut to Malibu.

Maybe their on the run.

From the government.

For Ben's crimes.

Raping random girls.

His cousins.

Any sick freak that would have the decency to date him.

I shudder at the thought.

"Miley?" Linda says.

Snaps me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I snap.

I hate you, Linda.

I hate you.

I hate your son.

I hate him so much.

Gosh, Linda.

Leave me alone.

I don't want to talk to you.

Go back to being the perfect freaking step-mom.

Or something.

I don't give a dang-whoopidy-doo.

Just leave me alone.

And my dad.

And my brother.

Get out of my life.

Please.

"Are you lying to me?" she asks.

No, Linda.

I have never consented to sex.

I was _never_ willing.

I was...

I was raped.

I was raped.

I was raped.

I was freaking raped.

"No. I have never consented to sex," I say.

She is silent.

Ten minutes of heaven.

Then she speaks again.

"Has anybody ever...hurt you, Miley?" she asks.

Yes.

Yes, Linda.

Of course Linda.

Your son.

Your son, Linda.

Your evil, caniving, pyschopatheic son, Linda.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She sighs.

Runs fingers through perfect blonde hair.

Settles her elbow on her knee.

Rests her chin on the knuckles of her fingers.

"Has anybody ever...raped you?"


	10. Looky We Got Here!

Ello! So, I finally went to hospital and I got a cast! I actually broke two toes and sprained my ankle. It feels like I'm lugging a shoe around with me, lol. It's been really hard on me because I couldn't update and now have to participate in my play with a cast on! Perfect, right? Well anyway, Tenth Chapter up, baby! And again, just to warn you guys...I have an EXTREMELY busy weekend planned. Friday I'm going to the movies and overnight at my Aunts house. Saturday I'm in NYC from 6am till 9pm. And Sunday I'll be soooo tired. Don't expect an update this weekend!

xoAllison

Chapter 10

Well, well. Looky we got here! Preggy Teen and Pyscho Step-Brother!

Tell her, Miley.

C'mon with it already.

This is your chance.

Your chance to be understood.

Your chance to be saved.

Rescued.

So why aren't you telling her?

Say it.

Just freaking say it!

"Linda!"

It's Daddy's voice.

Linda sighs.

Slaps her thighs.

Tells me we'll finish this later.

Leaves the bathroom.

Shuts the door behind her.

Why couldn't I have just said it?

Why is it so difficult?

You would think that if you were this situation, you would tell somebody.

But you wouldn't.

Trust me.

You would do it to help yourself.

But you wouldn't.

I promise.

You would do it to save yourself the pain.

But you wouldn't.

I _swear_.

---

School after Thanksgiving Break.

Lazy.

Boring.

Tired.

And also full of ways to bring Miley Stewart The Slut down.

They call me names.

Like Slutty Stewart.

All kinds of things.

At least I have Lilly.

And Oliver.

All three of us hold hands.

Bravely strutting the hallways.

Together.

Hopefully forever.

The bell rings.

For the first time in two weeks, I actually go to a class.

I take my seat.

Front and center.

Everybody whispers.

Snickers.

Stares.

I have Lilly.

Nobody can stop me.

Now.

Mr. Hardly struts in.

Coughs into a handkerchief.

Sneezes.

Rubs his sore nose.

"Now, Ladies and Gentle - A CHOO!"

His instructions are cut off.

By a big one.

Sniffles.

"Please get out last nigh - A CHOO!"

Some kids laugh.

Snicker.

I'm glad the attention is off of me.

Even if it is only for a couple of seconds.

"Get out homework," he says quickly.

He sneezes eight times into his napkin.

I don't have the homework.

I was ''absent'' from his class last time.

So I am just sitting here.

Staring at my binder blankly.

Acting as if I don't hear their snorts.

Or snickering.

Or tittering.

As if I can't feel their eyes burning little holes into the back of me.

Or their throwing of paper balls at the back of my head.

Or the girl behind me jabbing my neck with her pencil.

"Miss Stewart. No, home - ACHOO!"

He sneezes right on me.

His spitty snot sputtering on my face.

I am disgusted.

Everybody laughs.

He hands me a napkin, apologizes.

It would be nice if you gave me some antibacterial wipes, Mr. Hardly.

Instead of useless, germ caked napkins.

I wipe myself.

He titter totters with everyone else about their homework.

I sigh.

Another paperball hits my head.

I turn around.

I can't figure out who it is.

Everybody's faces are dripping laughter.

I just turn back around.

Slump lower into my seat.

Mr. Hardly writes some stuff on the board.

I have no clue what it is about.

Something about the war between Jews and Palestinians.

Everyone flips around in their binders.

Russling for the right paper.

They know what he is talking about.

They've been to every class.

Because they aren't teased like I am.

They aren't the ones who are tormented.

Whatever.

I rest my head on my palm.

And prepare myself for a class of kids ready to torture the heck out of me

Guess you can't really prepare yourself enough.

Because by the time the bell rang, I was ready to break.

I get up from my seat, run into the hallway.

I don't remember my next class.

I think it's Mr Arley.

Blech.

Algebra.

All of the mean kids are there.

You should see the way they poke fun at Dandriff Danny.

They give him dandruff shampoo.

A whole set.

With the conditioner, gel, and everything.

He still thinks it's a secret admirer.

I just walk.

The crowd evaporates.

Classroom doors bang shut.

I am the only one left.

I think about what Linda said yesterday in the shower.

How she seemed like she cared.

She actually looked like Linda The Human Being.

Not Linda The Perfect Freaking Robot.

I should have told her.

Shouldn't I have?

I do have some faults in this situation.

I did come in his car.

Even when I saw that devilish smirk.

But he always smiled at me like that.

I didn't know.

I was innocent.

Completely.

Right?

A feel a hand brush my shoulder.

I jump.

Turn around.

It's _him._

I want to run.

But my feet won't move.

I want to scream.

But my voice won't work.

I want to punch him in his face.

But that'll only bring me consequences.

I am like a rabbit.

Out in the open.

In the middle of winter, hunters pointing their guns at me.

Dumb and stupid.

No sense whatsoever.

He grabs my shoulders.

Pushes me against the wall.

I fight.

Thrust my shoulders around.

Trying to knock his gritty hands off of me.

But that only makes him squeeze harder.

Uses more force.

"Now, now Miley. What are we going to have to do about you and my mom?" he says.

Pyschoanimalslashcrazynutcasesaywhat?

How does he know that?

He couldn't have been listening?

Could he?

His hand rummages his pocket.

Pulls something out.

Red and shiny.

Holds it to my face.

Something sharp whacks my face.

He smirks.

"I think this explains it all for you. I will fuck you until you die, little bitch," he says.

Sick bastard.

I hate you.

What is wrong with you?

Oh, gosh.

Just leave me alone.

You've already done so much too me.

I'm pregnant with your child.

You made everyone hate me.

"Understood?" he asks.

My face is frozen.

I crush my jaw together until my teeth crumble into dust.

His eyes burn me.

But I cannot look away from him.

I want to kill him.

I really do.

"Understood," he demands.

I don't answer.

Hands reach my zipper.

Tug it down.

Unzips his zipper.

Crushes my hand with his.

Shoves it inside his underpants.

I am going to throw up.

Really.

I am going to puke until my insides are raw.

I can feel his chunk.

I want to die.

To melt.

Inside the ground.

I try to yank my hand away.

He squeezes more.

Moans quietly.

I just think.

Sick-

"Miley?"

No!

It can't be her.

It isn't her.

You kidding me?

I look her way.

Ben makes me yank him even harder.

I fight him.

Pull.

He is so strong.

"Lilly help!" I scream.

She shakes her head.

Tears run down her cheeks.

Streaks mascara.

"How could you?" she shouts.

"LILLY HELP ME!" I scream.

"Help you what, Miley? Fuck your step-brother in the middle of the hallway?"

No.

No, Lilly.

Oh my gosh no!

Please, Lilly.

Help me.

She looks away.

Disgusted.

I pull away from him as hard as I can.

He breaks my arm.

I wimper.

"Lilly, please! HELP ME!" I scream.

"Shut up! You are so full of it! Stop trying to make excuses! I can clearly see what you're doing and it's so...sick,"

she says. "Is Ben the father of your kid, Miley?"

I want to scream no.

I want to pinch him so hard.

And run to her.

And tell her.

I shout for her to understand.

But he won't let me.

My hand is wet.

No.

He did not just cum on my hand!

She shakes her head.

"He is, isn't he?" she says.

She is still not looking.

I know she is crying.

Her voice trembles.

I know she is livid.

Her tone is fierce.

I know I am breaking her heart.

Because she is shaking like that.

The way she always does.

The way she did after Lucas cheated on her.

She cried.

So long.

She shook like that.

Her body didn't stop shaking.

Like a baby shaking a rattle in his sticky hand.

I am so sorry, Lilly.

Help me.

Oh, please Lilly.

Help me!

I am not willing!

I scream that.

"Lilly, I am not willing! I was not willing! I was _never_ willing, and I _never will be!_ Please just help me," I scream.

She turns towards me.

Her face is serious.

Ben is cumming on my hand again.

I choke my vomit back.

I think she is going to help me.

To save me.

To rescue me.

But then her eyes flicker again.

With the same green fire.

"You really are a lying whore!" she screams.

Turns the corner.

Dissapears from sight.

Lilly!

Come back, Lilly.

Please, come back.

Save me.

Lilly.

Don't abandon me.

Please don't.

I'll be alone.

All alone.


	11. Difference In Thoughts

Okay so I've got some pretty gruesome news for you guys. I got really awful grades on my interim report today. So, my mom is taking the computer away from me for this whole week. She says if she has the conference and my grades have improved by next week, then I can get an hour on it every night until my grades are all A's. I'm going to really try for you guys! I just had to update because I knew I wouldn't for a while.

Oh, and the color of my cast is hot pink! I've got so many signatures on it, lol.

Have a great weekend!

xoAllison

Chapter 11

Difference In Thoughts

The branches on the trees wave overhead.

My heart clangs like a fire bell.

My head swirls with thoughts.

Tears burn little wet canals down my cheeks.

My hands smell like water and sour milk.

My sticky hair clings to the side of my face.

I cannot contain myself.

Everything is ruined.

For two days, I had Lilly.

And Oliver.

The only two people that give me hope.

The only two people that brighten my world.

That make me smile and laugh.

The only two people who believe in me.

And know that I am not a whore/slut/hoe/tramp.

The only two people that keep me together.

And now they are gone.

Like that.

With the snap of a finger, they have vanished into thin air.

My knees are wobbly, can hardly stand.

I am not biting back my sobs.

Letting them ring out into the brisk air.

Letting those tears drown my face in salty water.

Letting spit seep from my mouth, and snot trickle down my lip.

I do not care.

I know I look like a crazy lady.

A wild woman.

What difference does it make?

They tease me anyway?

I walk into the house.

I ignore Daddy and Linda's cries for hello.

And avoid Jackson's weird stare.

I go straight into the back.

Dump my backpack outside my bedroom door.

And head straight for the shower.

Oh, the haven of the smelly bathroom.

The bathroom where everybody poops.

Pees.

Farts.

Combs their hair.

Brushes their grimy teeth, spitting it into the sink.

And washes their sweaty bodies until it's somewhat germ-ridden.

Feels like heaven on earth to me.

At least right now.

I lock the door.

Undress myself.

Climb into the tub.

And let the freezing cold water slide cooly down my skin.

It is the most relaxing thing I have felt for a long time.

---

"Mile," he says.

I sigh.

I don't feel like talking.

Even though I know it is what I need the most.

Is somebody to talk too.

To confide in.

To tell them everything.

To let the pain off of my heart and lift it onto theirs.

But I won't.

I am not going too.

He comes in anyway.

And shuts the door behind him.

Sits down next to me.

But I ignore him.

I don't want to talk to him.

I don't want to talk to anybody.

How could Lilly not see what _he_ was doing?

Why was she so caught up in what _I_ was doing?

I wasn't doing anything.

It was Ben, Lilly.

How could you not see?

I know you need to glasses.

But you're not _that_ blind.

Are you still mad at me?

It doesn't make sense.

It doesn't make any sense.

How is she so dumb?

Oblivious?

How is she so cold?

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

What is up with _everyone _asking me that?

Daddy I am crying.

In my bed.

I am pregnant and fat.

I don't even talk to you anymore.

Does that sound okay to you?

Nope.

Do I look okay to you?

Nope.

I don't.

Because I'm not.

But you don't see.

You don't want to help.

You won't help me.

Nobody will.

I'm stuck like this.

Forever until I die.

I hope it is soon.

I hope I die.

I hope he will kill me.

"Guess that was stupid question," he says.

No, it wasn't.

It was a perfectly edcuated question.

So well thought out and perfectly pieced with the right words.

"Mile, I don't think I've ever seen you this upset. Tell me what's wrong, bud. There ain't nothin' you can't tell your ol' man," he says.

Yes there is, Daddy.

There is plenty I can't tell you.

There is plenty I won't tell you.

Because you wouldn't understand, Daddy.

Nobody would ever understand.

Never.

I am labelled a whore.

Do you know that?

Your new wife is so perfect.

It makes me sick.

Your new son is a sick pervert.

And I hate him.

He makes me want to jump off a bridge without thinking twice about it.

Didn't know that, now did ya cowboy?

"Miley Rae Stewart, if you don't tell me what's wrong in the next four seconds, I'll ground you for a month!" he threatens.

That isn't like Daddy.

To just ground me for not talking to him.

But oh well.

I'd be glad to be grounded.

I'm stuck inside my room all the time, anyways.

Nothing makes a difference anymore.

I'll even count for him.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four...

"You used to always tell me what was wrong. Now you won't even say hello."

I see his sad eyes.

And his sad frown.

But I don't care.

I don't have enough to care about anything anymore.

He leaves.

Thankfully, without a word.

---

Ben comes in.

He tells me he loves me.

He tells me that this isn't him.

But, that it's my fault.

Because I'm always naked around him.

In a towel.

In a bathing suit.

And then he rapes me again.

I can't do anything about it this time.

When is it time for me to tell?


	12. Searching In A Crowd Of Weirdos

I know this Chapter sort of dumps it all onto you at once. But, trust me. I've still got another five or six chapters ahead of me, IF I get the reviews and you guys like it. It's all about what you guys want, and what you guys like. Anyway, I am grounded from the computer but my mom isn't home and won't be for a whole two hours! So...yay! I get to write some more. And...I still have my beautiful signatured pink cast. Wonderful.

xoAllison

Chapter 12

Searching In A Crowd Of Nothingless Weirdos

_My hands are searching, arms outstretched._

_Lips are burning, rising with hunger._

_I can feel her warm skin on my fingertips._

_They run up her arm._

_I am overcome with joy._

_I grasp her arm, squeeze._

_Feel the blood rush through me._

_My tongue dances behind my lips._

_She won't look at me._

_Her face is forward, smiles._

_At something else as if I'm not there._

_She laughs, rope of silky hair falls behind her shoulders._

_I touch it, circling it in between my fingers._

_Smells of Pink Passion Fruit._

_She still does not look at me._

_Concentrating on something else._

_Lips move, talking to someone else._

_I yank her hair._

_It does not effect her._

_I lean forward, almost kissing her._

_She moves towards the something else._

_I look at her._

_Watch her thin, tan, perfect legs walk._

_Watch her thighs flex._

_Watch her butt bundled tight in her jeans._

_Watch her long arms dangle from her shoulders._

_And I see what she is looking at._

_Smiling at._

_Flirting with._

_Looking at._

_Flipping her hair at._

_Laughing at._

_And I almost pass out._

_She walks to him._

_Runs her fingers over his scrawny shoulders._

_Kisses him hard with her lips._

_His fingers grab her hair._

_Her hand squeezes his shoulder._

_The kiss is fiery._

_It is Oliver._

"Mile, you in there?" Daddy says.

He waves his chubby hand in front of my face.

I snap from my daydream.

Hardly notice he is there.

Linda touches my shoulder.

I flinch, scoot away.

"Your father and I were talking about...sending you to Group," she says.

Ya'll think I'm crazy don't you?

Group is for crazy people.

Group is for people who have problems.

Like anorexia.

Or bulimia.

Or addicts.

But I'm not anorexic.

I'm not bulimiac.

I'm not an addict.

I'm just crazy.

Miley just suddenly went crazy.

Over nothing.

One day, she just woke up and bam, she was crazy.

Really, really, really crazy.

----

The Group Leader is Donna.

Who is ugly.

And fat.

Really, really fat.

She has hair like Raggedy Anne.

Greasy.

Messy.

Knotty.

When she talks her double chin shows.

And she has to take deep breaths every couple of seconds.

She waddles around, gives us index cards.

"There you go, Miss," she repeats.

I take a slab of paper from her stubby fingers.

"Hello guys and girls," she says.

She stands in the front of the room.

Squeezes herself into a chair.

"My name is Mrs. Kiss, and welcome!" she says.

"Why don't we introduce ourselves before we begin, hmm?" she says.

She sticks her meaty finger in front of a girl's face.

"You start," she instructs.

The girl ducks her head.

You can see all six of her chins.

She speaks really soft.

"Rachel...my name is."

My name is Rachel?

"Alright then! Hello, Rachel!" Mrs. Kiss says.

Everybody says Hello to Fat Rachel.

I feel bad for Rachel.

She wears shorts that ride up her fat butt and show off her miraculous stretch marks.

Her oversized T-shirt has a doggie on the front.

That is stuff that my MauMa picks out for me.

She also has the fattest legs, ever.

Period.

My legs look like little twigs compared to hers.

The next girl introduces herself.

"My name is Kelly," the Kelly girl says.

Kelly has blonde hair.

And French bangs.

A small little nose.

With big brown eyes.

She looks like a baby.

We all say hello to Baby Kelly.

Next is a girl who looks like Carrie White from Carrie.

That Stephen King flick.

Her dark hair hangs in front of her face.

You can't even see her eyes.

"Miranda," she says.

She talks real low.

I can hardly understand her.

We all say hello to Miranda aka Carrie White.

Last there is Ella.

Who is superskinny.

She actually looks sort of normal.

Her hands are folded across her Abercrombie sweatshirt.

And her legs are hooked over each other, and I like her jeans.

They are ripped at the knee.

But she is whiter than snow.

Like, really, really white.

We all say hello to Normal Ella.

"Now, take out your cards I gave you," Mrs. Kiss says.

Nobody moves.

Because nobody put them away.

Duhh.

Wow.

It must be hard being fat _and_ dumb.

She hoists herself out of the chair.

Waddles over to a chalkboard.

She draws a square.

"This is your card," she says.

She draws six dots.

And tells us she wants us to write our name, age, grade,why we are here, what are our goals, and if we think we should be here or not.

My card looks like this.

I am: Miley Rae Stewart.

I am: Fourteen

I am in: 9th grade

I am here because: My dad thinks I am crazy.

My goal is: To take a bubble bath.

I think I should: Sit here and act like I am listening.

Fatty McFatFat collects our cards.

She gushes about how proud she is.

"Have a nice week, guys," she says.

I leave.

Walk out of the room.

Into the hallway.

Out of the school door.

Press myself up against the brickwall.

Let my sweatshirt cling to it.

Wrap my arms around myself.

How am I going to do this?

What am I going to do?

I have nobody to tell.

Because Lilly is gone.

Oliver is gone.

Jackson knows.

But it's not like I can tell him anything else.

Linda offers help.

But how can I tell her?

I _hate_ her.

I really, really do.

A car pulls up.

It's not Daddy's car.

It's not Jackson's.

Not Linda's.

Of course.

They sent _him._

They sent Ben.

---

I keep my head down.

I ignore the stares.

I ignore their ignorant words.

And their petty whispers.

They torment me.

"Hey, Stewart!"

I don't look up.

I know,

By the tone of his voice, laughter of his friends.

He'll just make fun of me.

"Lift up your shirt for me?" he jokes.

The hallway erupts with laughter.

They all chant slut and whore at me.

I act like it doesn't even phase me.

And I stare numbly at my feet.

I'll show them.

All of them.

I really will.

One day, they will see.

They will all really see.

I go to my locker.

Pop open the metal door.

Cram my backpack inside, rummage for a book.

I feel them tape things to the back of me.

Post-It notes.

That probably say rude things.

Like, Kick Me.

Or, Slap My Booty.

Maybe something like, I'm A Stupid Hoe.

I don't react.

They will see.

They all really will.

Someday.

I hear the whistle of the bell.

I don't react otherwise.

They all whisper things as they pass into class.

And I just stay at my locker.

Sliding down to the floor.

Burying my head in my knees.

Hot tears pour onto my jeans.

They leave a salty river.

Why does this have to happen to me?

I just don't understand why.

I've been a good girl, God.

I gave back to charity when I was Hannah.

I was always nice to people.

Even Amber and Ashley.

I always was the bigger person.

So why?

Why did you take away my mommie from me?

Why did you make me cry for so long?

Make me hurt.

Make my whole family hurt.

Why did Daddy even have to meet Linda?

It's all your fault, God.

You did this to me.

You planned this for me.

You put me through this.

How can you allow so much suffering?

From an innosant, fifteen year old girl?

I don't have any other choice, God.

I don't.

This is the last stroke.

God, I am not crazy.

You just made me this way.

They all just make me so upset.

I don't know what else to do, God.

I am going to kill them.

Kill them all.

Everybody.


	13. Don't Dump Your Soul On Me!

Yelloooo!!Okay, so once again, my mom is at a business meeting with a client and they are meeting for a loooonnngg dinner. So, I can totally get on the computer until she comes back. As long as my brother doesn't catch me, lol. Anyways, this one is a little...not so much variation from setting in this one. But a secret is let out. And it's rather unexpected. So hold onto your underwear.

Hint Hint Jackson does not know Miley and Lilly went out. You'll see.

xoAllison

Chapter 13

Don't Dump Your Soul On Me!

My feet scrape the sidewalk.

I don't bother to pick them up.

Walk like a lady.

What does it matter anymore anyways?

Who am I trying to impress?

My hood hangs over my eyes.

I cannot see in front of me.

I hear the wind rustle.

Leaves scimper across the sidewalk.

"Miles, hey," a voice says.

I know who it is.

It's Jackson.

I peer at him through my hood.

His eyes are pink and puffy.

His cheeks stained red.

Hair windblown and frizzy.

Was he crying?

Was my big brother Jackson actually crying?

Over what?

"Hey," I whisper.

It hurts to talk.

"What's up?" he asks.

There _is_ something wrong.

Jackson never says that kind of stuff to me.

I shrug my shoulders.

Maybe I won't kill Jackson.

Maybe I'll keep him alive.

It is silent for a while.

I hear Jackson sniffling.

I don't bother to look though.

If I see Jackson crying then, I will cry.

Blubber and wail.

Until I puke.

Watery spit-up that slides off of your tongue.

The only sound is our feet scraping.

Backpacks bouncing against our backs.

Nothing else.

Until he speaks.

"So, have you figured out how to tell Dad and Linda yet?"

Oh, here we go again.

The question I have been blowing out of my mind.

Ever since those thirty pregnancy tests were positive.

It haunts me.

Not exactly phasing me.

But sitting densely in the back of my mind.

Poking me every once in a while.

"Linda already has an idea...they sent me to Group," I say.

I can hardly talk.

My voice is coming out in a voice hardly above a whisper.

Guess I'm all screamed out.

"Oh. Well, it is kinda obvious, Mile," he says.

I know, Jerkson.

I really do.

I know I'm a fat cow.

I know I look like a whale.

I'm huge.

My jeans don't even fit me anymore.

My sweatpants...hardly.

Don't rub it in my face.

Because I know.

Maybe I will kill him after all.

I guess he realizes what he's done.

Because he gets this real sorry look on his face.

And he touches my shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just...alot is going on," he tells me.

I don't think Jackson has nearly as many problems as I do.

He should stop whining like a sissy.

Because not even I whine like a sissy.

And my life is a pile of dust.

Not like his.

"Yeah, right," I say.

He sighs.

"No really, Miley. Everything is so crazy," he says.

Runs his hands through his hair.

"So confusing,"

Runs his hand over his face.

"So...messed up,"

Lets out a deep breath.

"Mile, if I tell you something...promise to keep it a secret?" he asks.

No.

Please don't tell me.

I cannot handle anymore secrets.

There is no way.

But I don't say anything.

I try.

But I can't.

I really, really try.

But I am not physically able.

"I'm...in love with Lilly," he says.


	14. It's That Whole LoveHate Wana Kill Thing

Whooaa! I am totally rolling with these chapters right now. But I'm still not satisfied with my work. A writer is never supposed to be satisfied with their work. And again, this barely has any meat to its bones. But I want to make Miley's meltdown and insane state last for another two chapters or three. I have the Epilogue finished already. It's so sad, it almost made **me** cry! I almost made myself cry! I can't believe I did that. If you like this, and want to read the last few chapters of this annnd the depressing epilogue, then review, review, review! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! I love it, I read each and every one...so keep em rolling. If the reviews keep coming then this will most likely be finished by Christmas. I actually, might post the epilogue on Christmas. Make you guys cry! lol. Kidding.

Leave your thoughts and ideas.

xoAllison

Chapter 14

It's The Whole Love, Hate, Wanna Totally Kill Thaaang.

What?!

"I know it's weird...ya'll are so young but, I love her," he says.

No.

No, Jackson you _can't_ love her.

Because I love her.

I had her first.

You can't just steal her away from me, Jackson.

Don't you care about me?

I know, you never knew about Lilly and I.

But so what?

I love her.

Do you hear me, Jackson?

I **love** her.

"She's not like other girls around here. She doesn't worry about hair or makeup, or...anything," he says.

I know Jackson.

Don't you think there is a reason why I loved her so much?

She's beautiful, yes.

She's smart, yes.

She's not like any other girls, yes.

But she's _mine_.

Forever.

She will never be yours Jackson.

Never freaking ever.

I'm going to tell you.

And I'm going to kill you afterwards.

Really.

"Can I tell you something, Jackson?" I say.

He looks at me.

Tears glisten in his eyes.

But he grins, nods.

"Anything, Mile. Anything at all," he says.

The anger is blistering my insides.

Bubbling, churning.

Searing my concentration.

I am with no hesitation.

"Me and Lilly are...well, together," I say.

I contain my smirk.

I see his face.

His eyes widen, nostrils flare.

Grinds his jaw, looks to his feet.

So funny to see him this way.

To see his wilting heart smashed.

Stomped.

Crushed.

He doesn't know what to say.

So we walk in silence.

For so long.

Then I ask,

Because he must know,

"Jackson, where does Daddy keep his gun?"

He doesn't look up at me.

I can see the tears staining his face.

Running and sliding.

Leaving trails of red on his cheeks.

I bite my lip, hard.

Don't want to laugh.

I nudge him.

He doesn't look at me.

No answer.

Again, nudge.

"Top drawer. Leave me alone," he says.

Thanks, Jerkson.

For everything.

I'll be happy to leave you alone.

I don't need you anyway.

I don't need anyone.

Besides Lilly.

The house looms ahead.

I walk in front of him.

Feet scraping the ground.

I have what I need.

---

Jackson told me the truth.

Because here it is.

In my palms.

Shiny and silver.

Cold and hard.

Metal.

Loaded.

I smile.

This is all I need.

To win.

To be free.

From Ben.

From school.

From everything.

I feel like I can fly.

I hear footsteps.

I think they are Linda's.

I slide the gun down my pants.

Nowhere else to put it.

It is cold against my thigh.

It is unsettling.

It reminds me of -

"Miley?"

Ughh.

Linda.

I was right.

I look at her.

"What are you doing?"

Think.

Come on, Miley.

Think of it.

An excuse.

Anything.

"Nothing. Sleepwalking," I say.

Sleepwalking?

Oh, gosh.

I really am a ditz.

She chuckles.

I leave before she can talk to me.

The gun slides down my leg.

I hobble.

Fast as I can with my fat belly.

Down the hall.

Into my room.

Lock the door.

Plunk on my bed.

Pick the gun from the bottom of my jeans.

It's perfect.

You should see it.

It really is.

It's new.

And shiny.

Pretty.

Metal.

Absolutely lovely.

I love it.

Whoa.

Maybe I am crazy.

I tuck the gun under my pillow.

Should be safe.

But wait-

What if Linda changes my sheets when I'm not home?

I take the gun out from the pillow.

My dresser.

What if Linda does laundry?

Maybe I can just keep it with me.

Until it is time.

My bra.

That is a place nobody would look.

Except for Ben.

Oh, gosh.

Thinking of him makes my head spin.

And my throat burn.

Anger boils.

I will kill him first.

I slide the gun in between my bra and my breast.

It is cold and uncomfortable against my niple.

I will get used to lugging it around.

Like I did with my belly.

And with my secret.

Of being Hannah Montana.

Of being a lesbian.

Of having sex with my best friend.

Of being pregnant.

With somebody I hate.

Ben is not even a 'somebody'.

Ben is a THING.

THING.

I will kill THING.

And Oliver.

And Saint Sarah.

And Amber and Ashley.

And Jackson.

And my father.

And Linda.

And Dandruff Danny.

And Mikayla.

And Jake Ryan.

And Lilly.


	15. Secrets, Lies, Dreams, and Drama

Hey! Today is my officially first day of winter break. And I can get on the computer now because my mom is at work allllll daayy long! So, yay! This chapter is...exciting I might say lol. I read all of the reviews so far, and I love hearing your feedback and your thoughts and feelings. It's rather interesting. Only about another chapter or so before this story is finished. Really, I know. It's sad...I really had an awesome time writing this and of course I couldn't have had better reviewers than you guys who review! Happy Holidays and have an awesome weekend. And, I'm seriously in the mood for some major posting this weekend so review, review!

xoAllison

Chapter 15

Secrets, Lies, Dreams, and Drama

I'm completely unconnected  
Constantly rejected  
Like everything I've ever loved is coming down  
I'm drowning in emotion  
In the middle of the ocean  
Never knowing when it's over and I'm going down

-Instant Star

---

The sand is comforting.

Soft.

Grainy.

Hilly.

It's like when you sit down, you get sucked into it.

I wish it would suck me in.

Smother me.

Then I would be free.

Then my pain would go away.

All gone.

But maybe not.

Probably not.

Because Ben would get away with everything.

And Lilly would still hate me.

But they can't hate me if they feel the pain.

They would know what I felt like.

This whole time.

And they would feel bad for what they did.

Right?

---

"Miley?"

Ugh.

It's Jackson.

I hide the gun.

Inside my pants again.

Doorknob twists, his face pops in.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks.

Whatever.

What do I care about you, Jackson?

I don't care about your pathetic life.

And you don't care about mine.

I don't answer.

But he comes in anyway.

Sits on the edge of my bed.

"Uh - I'm...sorry. I didn't mean to upset you the other day," he says.

Yes you did.

I hate you, Jackson.

Oh, boy do I wish you could read minds.

You would hear every swear word that I'm calling you right now.

I hate you so much.

You can't **love** her.

You hardly even **know** her.

I love her.

Not you.

Me.

It's always me.

Never you.

Me!

"It's just - my life is crashing down on me," he says.

Pssh.

Yeah, right.

Your life is crashing?

Well.

My life has already sunken.

Like the Titanic.

Down into the miserable, dark depths of the ocean.

"Everything is so wrong," he says.

He grabs a pillow.

Hugs it up to his chest.

He looks like a little baby.

I have never seen this Jackson before.

This Jackson is weak.

Hopeless.

And deceitful.

Pathetic.

I don't feel sorry for this Jackson.

I don't know this Jackson.

I _hate_ this Jackson.

"I'm failing. I have no friends. Picked on all the time," he says.

Whooooooaaaa!

That seems reaaaaaaaalllll pitiful.

That is so horrible.

The saddest story I have ever heard of.

Well, I don't care.

Because my life is a whole lot worse.

And you don't see me coming to my brother for help.

Complaining like a six-year old at a Bingo Hall.

"Lilly, she was my last hope. If I could get her well - my life would rock," he says.

Arrgghh.

Lilly is _mine_, Jackson.

So you and her...

Never gonna happen.

Sorry to say.

But you can't have her.

Nobody can.

Nobody.

"Guess that's out of wack," he says.

Damn straight it is.

True dat.

---

Tuesday.

School.

Spit balls fly at the back of my head.

Rude notes plaster on my back.

Do I notice?

Of course.

Do I let other people think I notice?

Nope.

I turn the corner.

Heart beats quicker.

I scan the crowd for Lilly.

No sign.

I miss her.

I miss the sight of her.

The smell of her.

Her laugh.

And her hair.

And her lipstick.

I see THING.

THING is strutting down the hallway.

Like he is something else.

Girls ooohh and ahhh at him.

I don't.

They don't know he raped me.

They don't know he lusts for me.

They don't know how sick he is.

Or disgusting.

Or grimy and sticky.

They don't know.

And they really don't care.

My side presses up against lockers.

The locker handles dig into my hip.

It hurts.

But I don't feel it.

Not really.

I keep my eyes focused ahead.

Maybe he won't notice me.

Maybe I can blend in.

Yeah, right.

He is looking for me.

Always is.

He sees me.

I can feel his eyes burning into me.

I look ahead.

Don't look at him Miley.

Don't.

Something brushes my shoulder.

His hand.

His fleshy hand.

Pulls me away from the lockers.

Wraps his arm around me.

Pushes me closer to him.

His stench overwhelms me.

"Hey, princess," he whispers.

I pull away.

I get away.

My feet move.

So fast.

I am running.

I don't realize it but, I am running.

The bell rings.

Of course, I don't shuffle into class like everyone else.

I head into the bathroom.

The last stall.

Lock it.

Sit down.

Cry.

Bubble with anger.

Grind my teeth together.

I hear footsteps.

I hug myself tighter.

Maybe they won't notice me.

I hear giggles.

And voices.

Stupid cheerleaders.

I see converse sneakers.

Cheerleaders don't wear converse.

I see skater shorts.

Cheerleaders hate skater shorts.

I see Lilly.

She is talking.

I cannot see who yet.

But she is laughing.

Wow.

It is so nice to see her again.

Because she is so beautiful.

She turns.

She is facing me.

But she does not see me.

She presses herself up against my stall door.

Now I see.

Who she is laughing at.

Flirting with.

Just like my dream.

Oliver.

She wraps her hands around his neck.

And says something.

Then he says,

"But what about Miley? You love her," he says.

She is silent for a moment.

"No, Ollie. No, I don't. Not anymore," she says.

Dang.

My heart tears.

"I love you. I always have," she says.

My breath hitches.

Tears burn my eyes.

He smiles.

"I love you too," he says.

She giggles.

Brings him closer.

Kisses him with more passion than she kissed me with.

They are so dense.

They don't even notice.

That the stall door is locked.

So, obviously somebody is in there.

Or else you won't be standing against it.

They don't hear my sobs.

Or see my feet.

I hate them.

They will be second and third.


	16. Long Forgotten, Hard To See

This is the second to last chapter! Next chapter will be the last chapter of Secrets. This chapter is a little vague but I wanted it to show more of why Miley was so upset more than just her rape. I wanted everybody to see what she is really going through, and her insane and painful state. So...stay tuned!

xoAllison

Chapter 16

Long Forgotten, Hard To See

It is Wednesday.

6:15pm.

I think I will go downstairs for dinner.

I am hungry.

The baby is hungry.

I go downstairs.

Everyone is already eating.

Daddy is laughing, spaghetti hanging out of his mouth.

Linda is laughing too.

Jackson is stuffing the sauce and noodles down his throat.

Ben is smiling with them.

It's nice to see they are all getting along just fine without me.

They don't even see me.

Standing there.

Watching them all be a perfect family.

Because they are all so _perfect_.

And I'm the one little screw-up.

Mess up.

The family mistake.

The one they hide away in the attic when guests come over.

I stand there all through dinner time.

Listening.

Watching.

Not one mention of Miley.

Not flick of worry on their faces.

They are just like the rest of them.

They don't care.

No.

They don't.

Not all.

Daddy and Linda are fourth and fifth.

Jackson is sixth.

Ben is first.

---

Homeroom.

Thursday.

I never come to homeroom anymore.

Since I sit right behind Lilly.

But, today, for old times sake,

I'll go.

I have all of my first period books.

Like I'll need them, anyways.

The school is alive with walking feet and whispers.

Deep burning whispers.

That echo through me with a bright white hate.

Their words hurt more than ever.

I have Lilly heavy on my mind.

I have never felt so much pain before.

Not ever.

I love you Lilly!

Don't you still love me?

You can't love Oliver.

He's our brother.

Not a boyfriend.

We were meant to be.

I sware.

Here they come.

Walking down the hallway.

Lilly looks so beautiful.

Her hair is in braids today.

Her bangs are curled and pushed off to the side.

She is wearing her jeans today.

The ones that are tighter around her thighs.

And that top.

The blue one.

With white shooting stars on it.

The one that hugs her in all the right places.

Oliver is saying something.

She laughs and links their hands.

She blushes, bites her lip.

He grins, winks at her.

Dang.

I never knew Ollie was that smooth.

But I hate them.

I hate her for being so dense and cruel.

I love her, for being my best friend, and for everything else.

But what she is doing is hurting me too much.

I hate this.

I _hate_ this.

I can't swallow the lump in my throat.

The hallway grows smaller.

And their words become louder.

Their laughs circle me.

I am trapped.

I feel the sudden urge to cry.

She looks at me, with her dagger eyes.

Piercing me.

She rolls them at me.

Wraps her arm around his back.

I run.

I can't see.

I feel my books fall from my hands.

I hear them clatter on the floor.

I feel my legs move.

I feel my face.

Red and breaking.

Tears burning.

I can make out the bathroom sign.

I cannot tell if it is for Boys or Girls.

I just go in.

Shut myself into the first stall.

I fall onto the floor.

My breath is gone.

My mind does not think.

I just cry.

I am not thinking.

Crying.

I'm not making a sound.

My body is shaking.

Crying.

So hard.

I cry.

---

After a while, the tears stop.

The announcements play overhead.

The only thing I catch is a reminder about the Dance tomorrow.

I still lay on the floor.

My head near the toilet.

My feet sprawled out of the stall door.

My hands are under me.

They feel numb.

My heart aches.

And so does my body.

I am sad.

I am sad and filled with hatred.

I am sad, filled with hatred, and angry.

So angry.

My vision is blurry.

But there is no reason to see.

I know everything I need to know.

Tomorrow.

If Lilly and Oliver plan to go to that dance,

They better think again.

Everybody should.

Most of them won't be around, anyways.

I am tired.

My head hurts.

I think I will take a nap.

Here.

On the floor.

Now.


	17. Terrific Times To End Horrific Times

I don't know about you guys but, Ive got like eight different sweatshirts in my locker, two pairs of pants and my gym shoes, plus all of my makeup, books, ponytail holders, posters, mirrors, everything. My locker is like my home away from home. You'll see why I mentioned this. Sad to say but this is the last chapter of Secrets! I do have the epilogue to this written and ready! If you guys like it, and want to know what happens to Miley after she kills everyone then reviews are welcomed! It's pretty short and simple, and it takes place four years after the ordeal. It's very sad and I almost made myself cry just writing it! Anyways, much thanks to the reviewers and everyone who has read this. I loved writing this it was alot of fun! I have alot more stories on the way, Troypay, Gabpay, Mikilie Miley/Mikayla, Lackson, and lots of Liley! Enjoy guys!

xoAllison

Chapter 17

Terrific Time To End Horrific Times

I keep my head down.

My vision plastered on nothing but my ratty shoes.

My arms are wrapped around my sides.

I can feel their evil eyes piercing into me.

I can hear their dirty little snickers and words.

I ignore it.

You would think a person might get used to being teased and tormented.

But you're wrong.

At least about me.

Because I will _never_ get used to it.

And today it will end.

Today it will all end.

Now.

I hear somebody whisper,

"There's that Millie girl or -"

Her friend interrupts her.

"I think it's Molly."

The girl snorts.

"Like I care. She's pregnant! Whores don't deserve names," the girl says.

Her friend laughs.

"Then what's your name?"

The girl hits her friend.

"I'm not a whore like she is. She's a fat, _ugly whore_."

The friend oooes.

"I heard she did her step-brother. Ben Killingminton."

The girl throws her head back and cackels.

"Yeah right. He's so hott. And she's so _not_."

The friend shakes her head.

"I know. She looks like a pyscho. Ben would never screw a pyscho."

The girl hits her friend again.

"Shut up. You act like you know him or something."

The friend laughs.

"I don't know him. You do, though. That's why you're such a hoe!"

The Rachel girl rolls her eyes.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. We all know what kind of girl she is. A _slut_."

That hurts.

I don't know Rachel and her friend.

And I don't want to.

She has long brown hair.

Silky and straight.

And her friend has short blonde hair.

They are both Barbies.

Second,

I would _never_ hang out with somebody who thought Ben was hott.

I can feel the cold metal sliding against my thigh.

I have it slipped under a pair of tights.

I know what I will do with it and when.

I know how.

I planned it.

I practiced.

They will all see.

All of them.

The bell for homeroom rings,

I duck into an old janitor's closet.

I was in there before school started.

And I took everything from my locker and housed it here.

Except for my books.

I burned them.

It has my pens and paper.

My extra sweatshirts, cups of cold coffee that was once warm.

It has my favorite pair of sneakers that Lilly gave me for my birthday.

It has lipstick, and eyeshadow.

Hair brushes and barettes.

I'm going to make myself look pretty for Ben.

His last moments ought to see me look beautiful.

Maybe then he'll realize the pain he brings me.

I go to the broken piece of glass that I hung on the wall.

Study myself.

My hair is nappy and messy.

My eyes are tired and dark.

My face is thin and frail.

My lips are cracked and bleeding.

I have bruises along the sides of my face.

They still hurt when I touch them.

I take out my lipstick.

And smooth it over my dry lips.

It is bright red.

I cake my eyelids with eyeshadow.

Use it as blush.

Put a brush through my hair.

Pin it on top of my head with barettes and ponytails.

Take off my stained sweatshirt and change in too my old Abercrombie one.

I squeeze my butt into jeans that fit three months ago.

Leaving them unbuttoned because they won't fit.

My Abercrombie sweatshirt hangs low.

So nobody will notice.

I change into my favorite sneakers.

I look horrible.

But better than I have.

So it works.

The bell for first period rings.

The school is filled with walking feet and excited chatter.

My hand twists the silver knob.

Little light pours into the room.

I see Ben.

He is talking to a girl.

His lips in her ear.

His arm slinked around her shoulder.

A smile slapped across her face.

She giggles and waves bye to him.

He pinches her butt.

Her face turns red and she laughs.

It is time.

I pull it out from under the tights.

Pull the hammer back.

Grip it firmly in my hand.

Now it's your turn, Big Bad Ben.

I push the door open.

Walk briskly over to him.

Tap him on the shoulder.

He turns.

Looks at me.

Smirks.

"I knew you'd come around. I think we both know what kind of girl you are," he says.

Oh yes, Ben.

We both know what kind of girl I am.

Pyscho.

Just like _you_.

I raise the gun.

Point it in his face.

His eyes pop big.

His expression priceless.

I laugh.

"Miley wai-"

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

He falls to the floor.

Blood spilling from three holes in his body.

I hear screams.

People run for their lives.

They better.

I kneel down.

Kiss him on the head.

Leave a bright red lip mark.

Good night, Ben.

Rot in hell bastard.

I walk.

Quickly.

I see Lilly and Oliver.

Lilly is grabbing books from her locker.

Oliver is leaning against the wall and waiting.

Lilly's hair is so pretty.

It's long and straight.

She looks so beautiful.

I go up to Oliver.

"Hi, Ollie."

He looks at me with suprise.

And disgust.

I pop the hammer back.

Point it at him.

Bang.

Bang.

He falls.

Lilly's books clatter to the floor.

Her eyes are wide with horror.

Oliver is twitching on the floor.

Bleeding.

Trying to get back up.

I shoot him again.

And he falls limply.

"AAHH!"

She screams.

Turns to run.

"Don't you move," I order.

She stops.

"Turn around."

She spins on her foot.

Shaking.

Breathing heavily.

"Please, Miley. Don't hurt me," she begs.

I laugh.

In her face.

"Now it's your turn, Lilly. To feel my pain," I say.

She swallows.

Steps towards me.

"Miley...you caused your own pain," she says.

I shake my head.

"No, Lilly. He _raped _me. At the party, Ben _raped_ me. And you didn't believe, so you caused me all of the pain. You dumped me, trashed my name, and went out with Oliver. You knew seeing you two together would hurt, Lilly. And now I know what will hurt you."

She shook her head no.

She waved her hands in front of her.

I cocked the hammer back.

The tears pushed from my eyes, pouring down my face.

"Miley, I love you," she says.

No.

No, you don't Lilly.

You're just saying that so I won't kill you.

But I _hate_ you.

So you and Oliver can go to fucking hell.

My finger wraps around the trigger.

Bang.

She falls.

My breath dissapears.

Lilly's mouth opens wide.

Her eyes bulge.

Her face is twisted in pain.

She grabs her chest.

Blood soaks her shirt.

Her white shirt.

It stains.

Dark and red.

Like my lipstick.

I shoot her once more.

And her legs kick up.

And she lands on her back.

And her hand goes up in the air.

I step over her.

She tries to speak but she can't muster.

And her hand reaches for me.

To save her.

But I can't.

Because she's gone.

The light in her eyes fade.

And her strained hand falls limply to the blood soaked floor.

Oh, Lilly.

Oh, gosh.

I feel someone's foots steps come behind me.

I turn and shoot before I see who it is.

Some girl.

I shoot them again and again.

My eye catches a small boy sitting against his locker.

His head in his hands.

His body shaking vigorously.

I shoot him.

A cry escapes his mouth.

And he slides.

I can hear police sirens.

So I run.

Careful not to slip on the blood.

I run.

And run.

All the way home.

I shot an a little boy and his mom on the way.

They saw me,

sticky with blood and a gun.

So I killed them.

And left them to die.

When I get home I see Linda sitting on the couch.

Her peticured feet propped up on the coffee table.

Her eyes turn over to me.

And she looks horrified.

"Miley - what are you doing home?"

I point the gun at her.

"You're son is dead, Linda. And he raped me. I'm pregnant. And you're dead."

I pull the trigger.

Twice.

Blood stains the couch heavily.

And her eyes are dead.

I shot her in the head.

I shot her in her stomach.

I laugh at the scene.

Heavy footsteps pound from the bathroom.

And Daddy in his robe, and wet hair scan the scene.

He sees Linda.

And his mouth gaps.

He looks over at me.

And he says,

"Why, Miley?"

I shoot him.

Once.

He falls.

I drag him into the closet.

Let him bleed to death.

He calls for me.

"I love you, Miley. I don't understand why."

I kiss him on the forehead.

"Daddy, I'm pregnant. Ben raped me. So I killed them. All of them. They tortured me, Daddy."

His eyelids droop.

His voice is weak and tired.

Die, Daddy.

It's time.

Die!

"Love...you," he whispers.

And his chin falls to his chest.

Bye, Daddy.

I cover his face with a coat.

Turn off the closet light.

Jackson's room.

He is asleep.

I point the gun at his head and shoot.

Until the bullets are all gone.

And I let the gun clunk from my hand and onto the carpet.

And I crawl into bed with my big brother.

Wrap my arms around him.

I notice how my favorite sneakers are stained with blood.


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue

When I was 14, I had a party while my parents were not home. I loved my best friend, Lilly. We kissed. I felt so happy, I could not contain myself. My step-brother, 'Jimmy' raped me at this party. He got me pregnant. I told my girlfriend. She got mad. Thought I cheated. Broke up with me. I went through a breakdown. She got back together with me. We had sex. I loved her. 'Jimmy' raped me in the hallway. She found us. Thought we were having sex. Broke up with me. I had a meltdown. I killed her. And 'Jimmy' and my father, and my step-mom, and my friends and brother. I am now serving a life sentence in prison. My daughter, Isabella, is beautiful. She is four years old, with long brown hair and bright blue eyes. She looks just like me. She lives in Nashville, with my Aunt Dolly and my family. They don't talk to me anymore. But they let Isabella call me sometimes, and say hi. They send pictures. She is getting big. I probably will never see her again. But that's okay. Because she is with my family. And she is safe.

I would like to say sorry.

To Daddy. I love you, Daddy. I always have. You were always here for me. You were the most important man in my life. You just disappointed me that's all. I should have told you. I remember all of those horrible dresses you gave me for my birthday. I used to hide them, and never wear them. But now, if you asked me too, I would wear them all day and all night. Even out in public. I'm sorry I did this to you, Daddy. I love you. So much. I really, really do. 

To Linda. Linda you were amazing. I'm sorry I never gave you a chance. I miss my mom so much. I didn't think Daddy could ever love somebody like the way he did my mom. I was jealous, that's all. And your son hurt me. So I thought of you as a bad person. I thought it was your fault. For having him. I remember I would always decline your offerings for help. I could have used them. If you offered them now, I would accept them and I would listen. I'm so sorry I did this to you Linda.

To Lilly. I love you so much, Lilly. You were my best friend. I could tell you everything. You knew everything about me. I knew everything about you. I want you to know, I was so happy when you kissed me. I have never been more happy in my life. I remember when you dated Lucas. I hated him. The truth is, I was just jealous. Because I loved you. More than anything. And I still do. You never leave my mind. I will never ever forget your touch, or the feel of your lips, or your voice, or your smiling face. I will remember you forever. I'm sorry I did this to you. I love you.

To Oliver. Ollie, you were such a good friend! You always helped me out when I needed you the most. Always hung with me when Lilly and I fought. Brought a smile to my face everyday. You were so much fun to have around, and even though you loved Hannah Montana, I still wanted you around. You were the best friend someone could ask for. I'm sorry, Ollie. I'm so so so sorry. If it was anybody, I would keep you alive. I love you, Oliver.

To Jackson. Jackson, you were a doughnut. But I loved you. I know you were always at my side, always defending me and protecting me. You understood everything about me. You didn't hate me or call me a slut when you found out I was pregnant. You still were there for me. Thanks, Jackson. When you told me you loved, Lilly, I was mad. Because I loved her. And I didn't want anyone else to have her. Jackson, you were wonderful. I'm sorry. I really, really am.

Lastly, I'm sorry to all of the families that I hurt. I'm sorry I killed your child, sister, daughter, cousin, or best friend. I'm sorry that I killed your son, cousin, or home-dawg. I never meant for all of this to happen. I was so tormented. I went crazy. I'm sorry. I hope you are getting along much better. I hope they are resting in peace. Even though they did tease me, they never deserved to get hurt like I hurt them. I am so sorry. So very, very sorry.

Please, take this apology. Please, forgive me. I don't blame you if you can't. Because even until today, I still could never forgive my rapist, Ben Killimington. Even though he is dead, I hope he rots in hell. But, I hope your children are in paradise. I deserve to be killed. I don't blame you if you want to torture me. Please, feel obliged. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I am at a loss of words. I love you all. Even if you hate me. I love you. And I always will.

xo--

Miley Rae Stewart.


End file.
